


Mirage With Wings

by jisungtheworld (winwinnie)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Car Accidents, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, and kind of groundhog day, bc its not permanent, i was well shook, inspired by loona's butterfly, loosely inspired by BTS's Save Me, maybe more ships we never know, no one stays dead, seungmin can time travel, this... got kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-28 04:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winwinnie/pseuds/jisungtheworld
Summary: Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something. A pale face, pristine shirt, eyes so wide and so kind. A flash of dark hair.Just for a second, a mirage among the rest of the students clambering towards the windows like one singular mass. Just for a second, and then he's gone.A second isn't enough.He wants more.But Seungmin's hand is already at his wrist, his fingers already pulling at the loose thread. The ribbon is already shifting, the fabric of time melting between his fingers like soft wax.





	1. Introduction: The Ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> YES THIS IS MY LOONA FIC UNDER A DIFFERENT NAME AND WITH DIFFERENT CHARACTERS DONT KILL ME
> 
> title taken from butterfly by loona, because it is possibly the greatest song i have ever heard
> 
> the numbers are from their age order, so hopefully that isn't too confusing.

Eight is alone in the bedroom. He sits on his bed, the last in the long line of ones that are identical in every way, and thinks.

The white walls seem to press in around him.

The ceiling seems to shift every time he looks up.

The room seems a lot smaller, now that it's empty.

Eight sits among the row of beds, and he thinks. Around him, on one side the walls stretch out for ages, on the other a wall stops the endlessly repeating scene. There's no beds in front of him, only one bed to that side, the rest being to his left. Nine's on one side, and on the other Seven's, then Six's, and so on, all the way to One's, right at the other end of the room. Despite the distance, there's no difference between them either.

In reality, the only reason they know whose is whose is from years and years of muscle memory, and the tiny number inked above the right bedpost.

The tiny number that matches the one printed on the inside of his left wrist. 

8.

Six used to complain all the time. He'd say there was no individuality, that they couldn't express themselves. He'd throw tantrum after tantrum, and attempt to paint his bedposts as bright as he coulde, only to find the next day that it was back to being identical to how it was before.

Eight doesn't think that particularly matters now. Six isn't here.

But then again, neither is anyone else.

He shifts, and immediately regrets it. The pristine sheets on his bed are now crumpled, and he'll never manage to get them as neat again. It only makes it stand out more, something lived in amongst what hasn't been touched for months now.

Months.

He glances to the bed next to him, and ignores the way his heart aches. It still feels like only days since he last saw Five, since the boy last smiled at him and made Eight's heart skip a beat. It feels like only seconds since Eight was told that Five wouldn't be returning. That it was just him, and a row of empty beds from that moment onward.

He misses Five.

In fact, he misses them all. The loneliness is often overwhelming, and he finds himself wishing to go back to happier times, when the room with filled with sound and laughter and happiness.

Back to a time before One disappeared, before Two left to go after him.

Before it was just Eight and an row of beds.

That's why he has to do what he's going to do.

He glances at the door by One's bed once, even though he knows it will be shut. For such a huge risk, it wouldn't be worth making such a simple mistake. Then he looks back down at the ribbon tied around his wrist.

It's a deep silver, almost black in its darkness, and a soft silk that's never left a mark against his skin. It's tied on with a double knot- something far too important to lose- and the very corner of one side is slightly frayed.

He runs his finger over the soft fabric one last time.

Eight has never been the most outgoing. He's never been as energetic as Six or Seven, never as loud as Nine, or as mesmerising as Three or Five. Even One was more sociable, joining in whenever he felt confident enough to speak.

No. Eight has always been Eight, quiet and awkward, more content with staying in the corner than play-fighting with the others.

But Five was always by his side. No matter what happened, Five was there for him, there to hold his hand and tell him to stand up for himself. Maybe that's why Eight feels he has to do this. To do something for Five, to repay his kindness for once.

With that thought on his mind, he pulls the frayed edge of the ribbon, hard, and lets his surroundings melt away.

———

_"Eight!" Five calls, making his way so_ _delicately_ _across the room that Eight almost can't_ _believe_ _he's a real person, and not some sort of doll, "Have you decided yet?"_

_His voice is uncharacteristically high_   _, full of an excitement that seems almost out of place,_   _and he sounds so genuinely interested that Eight has no choice but to shuffle along on the sofa, making room for the other boy to sit down. He beams as he does, smoothing out his trousers and kicking up his feet," Well? "_

_Eight looks at Five. The way the other boy actually seems to care about him. Yes, Eight has decided, but he still doesn't know if it fits quite right. Nothing's ever perfect and this is the kind of thing that he doesn't want to make a mistake with._

_But he doesn't think Five would care. Five would never mind if he decided against it, he'd never judge Eight or call him childish. So Eight opens his mouth, and out comes spilling all the secrets he'd been waiting to tell._

_"Seungmin,"  He says, and as soon as the name leaves his mouth, he knows it's right. It fits perfectly, and he can see in Five's face that he thinks so as well. "My name is Seungmin."_


	2. One: The First Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't want to tag major or minor character death, since none of it is permanent- but at least one character will 'die' in almost every chapter
> 
> BUT JUST TO BE SAFE:  
> tw for a teeny mention of blood and a mention of someone getting hit by a car
> 
> i'm terrified of tagging wrong okay

Eight wakes up on a bed. It should be unsurprising, considering that he was on a bed only three seconds ago, but he can't help but look around in wonder.

This is not the bed he was on three seconds ago.

This bed has dark grey sheets, softer than any he's ever felt before, and two fluffy pillows in a matching colour at the head. The posts are a shade of silver that reflects the light from the open window to his left, and they're covered in tiny stickers of various cartoon characters. He doesn't recognise them, but by the way the edges peel of the wood, they've had to have been there for quite some time.

It's the only bed in the room.

Gone are the white walls, gone is the row of identical cots, gone is the camera in the corner of the ceiling staring at him like an unblinking eye.

Gone is the room he'd never left before, and here is a place that's undoubtedly his.

He's never seen anything quite like it.

The room is for one person, a sense of privacy that he's never experienced before beginning to settle in, and his heart flutters when he takes in what could have been.

The grey walls don't quite match the bed-sheets, and there are still piles of once-worn clothes discarded on the floor. Posters with torn edges surround him from where they've been badly sellotaped, pop stars grinning down from half-lidded eyes ringed with too much eyeliner.

There's a whole wardrobe of clothes to one side, and he can't quite stop his mouth from falling open when he pulls open the door. There's just so many clothes.

Eight has only ever had one outfit before.

It was identical to the ones the rest of the boys wore; a plain white cotton t-shirt, and loose-fitting trousers. Every single day, they'd wake up and the pile would be waiting for them, sitting neatly folded at the bottom of their beds. They'd shrug off their matching white pyjamas, and pull on the clothes mindlessly.

They didn't have a choice.

But now... Now Eight has more than he could ever dream of.

Five would love it.

The other boy managed to carry off whatever he was given to wear, making even the dull clothes look beautiful. He managed to make them look like something that a prince would wear, not a prisoner. He could spin and dance, and effortlessly replicate the same graceful air that Three carried (even if Eight thought that the pale colour suited Five much more).  He'd be so excited to see such a huge array of choices.

It's that thought that gets Eight to straighten up.

He isn't here to marvel at clothes.

Turning to his left, he runs his hand down the wall. One final test, one way to make sure that his mind isn't deceiving him. To make sure this isn't a cruel trick, that he won't wake up come morning.

The paint doesn't come off in his hand, and the wall is almost unbearably cold under his clammy palm.

It's real.

Of course it is.

Around his wrist, a single thread trails of the edge of the ribbon. The once neat end is frayed, ruining the image of perfection he'd worked so hard to maintain. But that only confirms what he'd hoped.

It worked.

It  _actually_   _worked_.

He'd actually managed to do it, and although maybe a tiny part of him already knew that, the rest his body can't quite process the shock. He isn't in the Room any more. Shy, awkward Eight had actually done it.

He grins, half a second away from actually punching the air in glee, before he remembers that he's here for a reason. That there's no time to waste, that every second that slips by could be the decision between life and death.

Pulling off his silk (silk!) pyjamas, he throws on a mixture of clothes from the wardrobe. Dark, of course, a colour that he's always preferred over the blinding white of his bed, or the endless colours of the walls and ceilings. He isn't there any more, and he can where whatever colour he likes.

(Six would love it, he thinks guiltily. In fact, they all would.)

There's a crash, as he realises that in his haste to pull on a shiny pair of black boots, he's stepped backwards into a desk. The entire wooden frame moves with his weight, and a few sheets of paper flutter down into the floor. He moves instinctively to grab them.

It's drilled into his mind from the forever cleanliness of the Room, the judging stares for causing any sort of mess. And Eight has always been clumsy, tripping over his own feet more often than not.

He moves, and as soon as he does, he can hear the rip in his trouser leg before it actually happens.

The papers just brush his fingertips, as he stays frozen in place. His leg is already beginning to ache.

It's a bright kind of pain.

It makes him open his eyes more, shakes some sense into his head. The rush of adrenaline through his body is sweet, in a messed up kind of way. He can already feel that the wound is damp, and when he presses her fingers to the cotton of his trousers, it comes back stained with a coppery shade of red he's only seen a few times before.

It  _hurts_.

He runs his finger over the nail that he'd caught his leg on, and pushes it over his trouser leg slightly, matching up the size of the hole to the jagged metal. He doesn't know how he hadn't noticed it before, but there's no time to waste wondering about things that have already happen.

Not when he's here to change the course of the future.

He makes his way out of her room, not even pausing to wipe the blood off of his fingers. The rest of the house is thankfully empty, and he grabs an apple from the fruit bowl before he makes his way out into the street. It's just heavy enough in his palm, and the stains his fingertips have left aren't visible against the deep red of the fruit anyway.

His bag is lying by the side of the door, and he swings it roughly over his shoulder as he steps out.

"Minnie!"

The door has just shut behind him , and he's just about to bite into the apple when the voice calls out. He frowns. There's no one else around- the street is deserted- and yet the voice was close. Close enough to be directed at him, even. Vaguely, he wonders who the voice was calling for, and takes another step forwards before stopping in his tracks.

Sitting on the wall in front of his house, is Six and Seven.

And they're looking right at him.

"Minnie!" Six waves, nudging Seven with his shoulder and beaming at Eight, who with a sinking sense of dread, is just beginning to realise that maybe he is Minnie.

It does make sense, now that he thinks about it, that he'd have a name. They all have- he can't be expected to go around calling them by numbers the whole time- but it's the fact that it's directed at him that catches him off guard.

Minnie.

He wonders where that came from. Why it's his. And not-

Seungmin.

The two syllables that he'd actually claimed as his, the secret that was once shared between Eight and Five, and now is his alone. He frowns, trying not to appear too shocked in front of Six and Seven.

Seungmin.

It's his name. Maybe Minnie is just a nickname, a shortened version of what was actually his, but he can't help but think it isn't. There was just something about the way they'd said it.

The way it felt wrong.

His name is not Minnie. It's Seungmin.

There's a strange sense of anger in the pit of his stomach.

His.

Not Minnie. Not Eight.

For the first time, he doesn't want to call himself by a number any more. He doesn't need it now. He's not in the Room anymore, and he may never return. He doesn't want this number to define him, like he's just an item on a list.

More than anything, like he's replaceable.

"Minnie?" Calls Six again, swinging his feet from where he's sitting down, "You okay? We were just about to give up and walk to school without you."

"I convinced need him to stay," pipes up Seven, smiling angelically.

"I guess I'm just tired," Seungmin says, "I didn't sleep too well last night."

Seven jumps up, laughing. "Let me guess. Practising singing again? Or just a book you couldn't put down?" He runs up and grabs Seungmin's sleeve, pulling him through the gate at the bottom of the garden and walking in what's presumably the direction of their school.

Seungmin doesn't reply, but they take must take his silence as confirmation, as they burst out in peals of laughter again. He even sees Six wipe a tear away from his eyes, and decides that there must be some sort of inside joke, because what he said wasn't funny at all.

He frowns (again, he does realise that he seems to be doing that a lot, but it's all too overwhelming  _not_  to frown so much) and waits for Six to catch up. The older boy practically bounces into place beside him, linking arms with Seungmin and, for the first time, speaks with a degree of seriousness that seems uncharacteristic.

"But seriously, Minnie, books are great and all, but they won't do your homework for you! You don't want a repeat of last year, do you?" Six raises his eyebrows as he speaks, wagging his finger critically.

Seven only snorts, seemingly not noticing how Seungmin doesn't react and batting his arm lightly. "Grandpa Jisung is making a comeback, I see?"

Six- no, Jisung- pouts in a fashion that is so unmistakably him that Seungmin can't help but smile. He puts his hands on his hips and makes a sound incredibly childlike, "What? You're obviously wrong, Felixie~ W R O N G!"

"I'm serious!" Seven, or Felix as Seungmin now knows, says around his laughter, "It's like you were possessed by Chan or something!"

Seungmin frowns. He doesn't know who Chan is. There's something about the personality that sounds like it could possibly be Two, but it could also be someone else entirely. Truth be told, the concept of someone who's not one of the boys from the Room is still a bit strange to Seungmin. His entire life, it's just been them and the watchers. The thought of someone else seems... out of place. Impossible, maybe.

The rest of the walk to their school seems too short. The seconds slip past him, and although he knows that there's nothing to change yet, he can't help but feel like he's already gone wrong somewhere.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realise that he’s completely zoned out.

Beside him, Felix squeals.

It's a loud sound, just unexpected enough to make Seungmin jump. Then he notices how red Jisung's face has gotten, and he realises that he may have missed something.

Felix's finger is pointing to a crowd of students, presumably at the person in the centre, but it's impossible to make out who amongst the sheer amount of people surrounding them. Every so often he catches a glimpse of short black hair, but it's a feature too vague for him to accurately place.

Another student grins at them as they walk past, blocking his view any further, and tries to hand Seungmin a sheet of paper.

He doesn't take it, but simply stares.

Flyers?

He's handing out flyers?

It doesn't quite make sense.

There's something strange about the whole scene, about Jisung's reaction, about the boy. There's something that he's missing. Something pulls at the back of his mind, urging him to go back, to take another look. He's certain that something's wrong. But he just can't quite work out what it is.

And before he can get another look at the boy in the crowd, they're through the doors at the front of the school and masses of people are too far behind them. The lockers lining each side of the the corridor don't offer any kind of suggestion to what he should do.

The boy stays on his mind for a few more seconds, before he's being pulled into a nearly full classroom and there's suddenly too much to focus. He's pushed into a seat in the corner of the room, right by the window.

Behind him, Jisung and Felix sink into their own chairs, still gossiping. Jisung's cheeks are still slightly pink, and the grin on Felix's face shows that he knows exactly why.

Something tells Seungmin to concentrate, to work out what they're talking about, but he can't. The window pulls his attention to it, and he can't look away.

From her seat, he has a perfect view of the front of the school.

The roads sprawling out, the students still arriving before the bell rings. The huge fields on either side of the main path, the light blue bike sheds and trees dotted around, the only source of shade from the burning sun.

A piece of paper flies by the window. One of the flyers from earlier, Seungmin realises but it's not quite the same. There's something off about the colour.

It takes him a second too long to place what its been stained by.

And it's at the same time he sees that the scene in front of the school has changed.

There is still a crowd around the boy, but it's for an entirely different reason. He can't hear their screams, but he can see the open mouths, and his heart sinks. The boy, the boy that Jisung blushed at, the boy with short dark hair, is lying on the floor.

Surrounded by the same blood that stained the flyer.

His eyes narrow, as he opens his mouth to tell someone, but there's a loud sound that interrupts him before he has the chance to let any words out.

It's because someone's called out, rushing into the classroom and slamming the door so hard into the wall that Seungmin doesn't have to look to know that it'll leave a mark.

Black, and scratched deep into the white paint until it eventually gets too painful to look at and someone paints over it.

"Someone was hit by a car!"

Suddenly, Seungmin is much closer to the window that he'd ever wanted to be. His face is pressed against the cold glass, fingers scrabbling for a hand hold on the desk. There are students pushing from behind him, all wanting to look at the scene taking place outside of the front gates. Like it's not fellow student, but another interesting bit of gossip. Today's sob story that probably won't even be remembered by lunch. They descend like gannets.

That's when he first heard the name.

 _Minho_.

 _Minho_.

 _Minho_.

It doesn't make sense, the name means nothing to him, until he looks behind him and-

Oh.

Of course it wouldn't be this easy.

It only takes one look at Jisung to confirm who Minho is. His face is pale, smile slipping off his face and dripping into the floor. Felix's hand is pale from where he's clutching it too hard. If Seungmin really looks, he can pinpoint the exact moment where Jisung's breath hitches.

The look of heartbreak is impossible to fake.

 

_Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something. A pale face, eyes so wide and so kind. A flash of dark hair._

_Just for a second, a mirage among the rest of the students clambering towards the windows like one singular mass. Just for a second, and then he's gone._

_A second isn't enough._

_He wants more._

_But Seungmin's hand is already at his wrist, his fingers already pulling at the loose thread. The ribbon is already shifting, the fabric of time melting between his fingers like soft wax._


	3. One: Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for teeny mention of blood same as last time
> 
> also, go stream miroh

Seungmin wakes up.

There's a few seconds of disorientation, his head spinning so fast that he can't physically open his eyes. Then he remembers -Minho, the car crash, _Five-_ and he remembers that there's no point in wasting time by feeling sorry for himself. The ribbon is still tight on his wrist, and he immediately brings it close to his chest, massaging the skin whilst he takes in his surroundings.

He's still in the grey room.

Grey bed sheets and silver bedposts covered in peeling stickers. Tentatively, he grabs one, watching as it makes the paint flake off the wood. Walls covered in posters, all still with mouth half open.

He climbs out of the bed, letting his toes sink into the carpet and makes his way to the wardrobe.

The same route he took last time.

The steps come naturally, and he doesn't need to look down to know that they'll be in the same place that he stepped before. It's the way that time wants to go. It doesn't want to be changed.

Too bad Seungmin's not giving it a choice.

He grabs the same clothes he threw on before, letting the silk pyjamas pool around his ankles in an identical fashion. The same jacket, the same shirt and trousers. It's not until he's pulling on the pair of black combat boots that he realises he could have changed something.

But it's too late.

He's already falling.

The pain returns in his leg like it never left. It's the same bright feeling, the sudden realisation that he's cut himself again before his mind remembers that it's supposed to hurt.

His fingers travel down to the wound.

Damp, the blood staining his skin.

It's not surprising.

But he can't afford to waste time thinking about the cut when it's already happened. Instead, he finishes tying his laces and races out of the bedroom, not pausing to see if there's anyone else in the house. Not when he knows there isn't.

He rubs at the cut absentmindedly though, wincing when the skin screams in protest, a fresh wave of agony flooding through his body. The blood on his fingers stares back at him when he finally moves his hand away.

There's a second of silence as his mind reels, trying to focus on the last time he saw blood  _because something else had definitely happened_  and feels slightly sick when he remembers exactly what he was trying so hard to recall.

The flyer, drifting past the window, stained with crimson.

He has to change it.

Seungmin grabs an apple, biting into it as he slides through the kitchen.

He swings his bag over his shoulder as he closes the door behind him and begins to make his way down the path-

"Minnie!"

Jisung grins, swinging his legs and nudging Felix from where they're sitting on the wall outside his house. He grins and waves, before getting up and walking over to Seungmin in a strange parallel of his actions yesterday.

They're changed so slightly that they won't ever have an affect, but it's still slightly strange to Seungmin to think that even his facial expression can affect the movement of time.

"You okay?" Jisung asks, "We were just about to give up and walk to school without you."

Felix grabs Seungmin's sleeve, pulling him through the gate at the bottom of the garden and walking in the direction of their school, "I had to convince him to stay. Seriously, he's such a bad friend."

Jisung squawks in protest despite the lack of malice in Felix's words. Between his indignant yells, Seungmin manages to reply. "I guess I'm just tired. Stayed up too late -"

"Reading?" Jisung and Felix chorus at the same time, hands over their mouths, trying to suppress the laughter threatening to spill from their lips, earlier fight forgotten.

Seungmin can't help but smile as well.

Or so he thinks, as his lips quirk upwards. It's been so long since he smiled, he's almost forgotten what it was like.

It's just that there's a kind of infectious happiness around them, and he can't help but move his mouth.

Seungmin hadn't realised how much he'd missed it.

Jisung comes up behind him and walks next to Seungmin, linking arms with him as if it's the most natural thing. He frowns in mock seriousness, and puts his other hand on his hip.

"But seriously, Minnie, books are great and all, but they won't do your homework for you! You don't want a repeat of last year, do you?" His eyebrows are raised, and he wags his finger critically.

Seungmin almost falls into the same silence as last time.

Felix is just about to open his mouth, a second away from making a joke about Jisung sounding too old, when Seungmin gets there first.

"As if you're any better. I bet you spent the night dreaming about Minho again."

The fabric of time stretches slightly further. It's a step in the right direction, but it's not quite enough.

_More._

Jisungs face turns red. "Ho- How did-" he splutters, cheeks burning in embarrassment, "How did you know?"

Felix reaches over Seungmin to flick Jisung on the forehead. "It's obvious, idiot," he says, "You're not exactly subtle. The whole school knows about your big crush at this point." He paused, as if thinking, before adding, "That's Big Crush with and capital B and C, by the way."

"You should talk to him."

Time stretches. It's tearing at the seams, bursting with the change Seungmin's trying to force through. It doesn't like this, it doesn't want to give in, but it doesn't have a choice.

Seungmin isn't giving it a choice.

"I don't- I can't. I'll just mess up and make myself look like an idiot."

Seungmin rolls his eyes. "Then he won't exactly be wrong. You  _are_ an idiot." Jisung's just about to protest when Seungmin continues, "You're an idiot for not seeing that he likes you back. I'm pretty sure he's been crushing on you for months."

Jisung's legs stop working for a second. His whole body freezes, and he's a step behind, having to run slightly to catch up before he's pulled away from the others. "Really?"

"Really." Says Seungmin, and Felix echoes him. The other boy looks slightly confused, but his grin hasn't faded at all.

"There!" He exclaims, pointing in the distance, to the school. They'd managed to get there so quickly. "Go!"

He's suddenly pushing Jisung forwards, into the crowd of people to where a boy with short dark hair is handing out flyers to passing students.

Three.

Minho.

Seungmin is too far away to hear what they're saying, but he can tell it's going well by the fact that the crowd around Minho is beginning to disperse. He can see how Minho's confident facade drops, how wide he grins when Jisung approaches him.

He can see how Jisung takes Minho's hand, and how tightly he holds it.

He can see how the flyers lie on the floor forgotten.

A few are picked up by the wind, spiralling up into the air and away.

Seungmin steps forward. It only takes a few steps to reach the two boys, and less than a second for the words to leave his mouth. "Come on, lets get to class. We don't want to be late."

Jisung grins, immediately heading towards the school building, and Minho follows him. His eyes are bright, and he's too caught up in the other boy to remember the flyers lying discarded.

Behind them, there's the sound of an engine, the shrieks of a few students as a car speeds past. Slightly too fast, slightly onto the courtyard. The wheels leave tyre tracks over the pile of flyers, but it doesn't matter.

Minho isn't there.

Time rips.

It breaks, and immediately sews itself back together in a new pathway. It groans under the strain, but there's no way it can fight back. There's a slight burning sensation at Seungmin's temples, but it's gone almost as it appears.

He smiles.


	4. Two: I Saw an Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from nct 127's Angel
> 
> tw for blood and death

He follows Jisung and Minho to the next lesson, Felix sticking by his side, not wanting to get too close to the newly-formed couple. The other boy can't contain his excitement, squealing every time they do much as look at each other, much to Seungmin's embarrassment.

Next time he'll make sure to stay further away.

The corridor blurs into rows and rows of identical lockers, and it feels like a lifetime later that they reach the classroom. Seungmin manages to slip past Jisung, who's bidding farewell to Minho, and practically throws himself into his seat, smiling when he notices the absence of flyers scattered around the entrance to the school.

Minho is safe.

Felix sits behind him, unzipping his bag and rummaging in it to find a pencil or pen. Seungmin copies him, trying to look as natural as possible. Jisung sits next to Felix and the sound of them talking is just quiet enough to become little more than background noise.

Seungmin opens his own bag, not really knowing what's going to be in there. There's a strange sense of excitement, he realises, as he flicks through the neat pile of books in an attempt to locate his pen. It feels like something out of a movie, just cliche enough to feel surreal.

He's never been to a school like this before.

He's never been to a school before.

Of course he's had an education, but he's only now realising how limited it may have been. How much they wanted to keep a secret, and how much they actually prepared him for.

How much of the world is unlimited potential.

He can't help but think of Five, of the other boy's fascination with anything outside the Room. Seungmin hadn't really cared. His ambition reached what he was told he was able to do, and went no further than the endless piles of books at the end of his bed. He'd sharpened his ability to the amount they wanted, and hadn't dared to go further.

Five had learnt everything possible.

At some point, the teacher walks in. They start talking, but Seungmin doesn't have it in him to pay attention. Even if he tried, he can't help but get distracted. The window beside him keeps his mind focused on it, not matter how hard he tries to look away.

So he doesn't try.

Until suddenly he has the urge to leave. His stomach clenches, in a similar way to the sudden urge to throw up. His head spins slightly, and bile begins to rise in his throat.

Trying not to shake too much, he raises his hand. "Can I go to the loo?"

The teacher looks up, obviously not expecting Seungmin to speak up. She doesn't spend too long worrying about it though, nodding without putting much thought to it and waving in the vague direction of the door.

He leaves the classroom quickly, sighing in relief when he notices a sign on the wall opposite the classroom. It declares the toilets as left, so that's the direction he goes off in.

He turns the corner, hoping that the signs will be correct and that he won't have to wonder through the corridors for any longer than necessary, and almost walks straight into Two.

"Minnie!"

Seungmin stops walking and waits for Two to continue, suddenly paying much more attention than before. Jisung suddenly pokes his head around the corner as well, grinning at Seungmin with the look of a child about to do something they know is wrong.

It puts Seungmin on edge.

"Did you hear? Minho and Jisung are dating now!" Two whispers, although it's not very successful. The corridor is completely silent, and so amplifies his voice despite his best efforts to keep it quiet.

Jisung pouts, whacking Two on the arm. "Of course he knows, he was there," he says, but he can't quite keep the laugh out of his voice. 

"Yeah." Says Seungmin, agreeing with Jisung and wondering where this is going. He takes a few steps forwards, just enough to face Two and Jisung properly, and can't help raising his eyebrows when he sees a very fed-up looking Four.

It's clear that they're planning to skip school. Two and Jisung's almost hysterical nature coupled with Four's reluctancy makes that the obvious solution.

But why?

And where?

Seungmin can't keep an eye on them if they're not in the school. And besides, he's already told herself to watch over Felix now. He's decided that Jisung is safe for now, and needs to keep an eye out to know that the other boy is safe. He can't get distracted with anyone else.

Not matter how much of a bad feeling pools in his gut.

Two gestures behind him to Four, "We made a bet a few weeks ago about when they'd finally get together." He grins again, laughing in a way that's slightly evil, "And we've decided that his punishment for losing it should be skipping school."

"The high and mighty Changbin? Skipping school?" Jisung chimes in. Seungmin immediately frowns, matching up the name to the face.

Changbin rolls his eyes, pulling Seungmin towards him until they're standing practically in line with Two and Jisung. "Minnie, do you want to come with? There's a spare seat, if you're up for it." His eyes narrow, "Otherwise we'll have to invite-"

He never gets to finish his sentence, as Jisung interrupts. "And Changbin's driving instead of Chan, so we might not actually get lost this time!"

Two - no, Chan- whacks Jisung on the shoulder, but there's no malice in it and he's smiling. They seem to get along so well, and it makes Seungmin feel a little sad.

It's so different to the muted personalities from the Room. So different from the faked obedience and blank faces Seungmin had grown up with.

"Sorry," he says, "I've got a test next lesson, and I can't afford to miss it" He's met with a chorus of disappointed groans.

Chan walks past him, patting his shoulder as he goes, "Maybe next time?" Seungmin nods.

Knowing full well that there won't be a next time.

Jisung smiles as he passes, and Changbin dimly looks even more let down, apparently dreading the trip. Seungmin's just about to make his own move, to actually reach the toilets this time, when Jisung doubles back on himself and whispers something in Seeungmin's ear.

"Good choice. Changbin is no better at driving than Chan," he says, and then he's gone.

Seungmin stands in the corridor, frozen for a few seconds. He can't help but feel like he's made a mistake. Like he's missing something huge, like he shouldn't be worrying about about Felix and should instead focus on-

"Hey!"

Seungmin turns around to see Felix, throwing his bag at him. He reacts quickly, catching before his brain even has the chance to ask why.

"You took so long that lesson has practically finished. The teacher sent me out a few minutes early to try and find you!" He raises his eyebrows, cheeks pink and slightly out of breath, "Seriously, though, did you get lost?"

Seungmin rubs the back of his head awkwardly. He's never been the best at talking to people, and he can't find the words to explain what just happened. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, struggling to phrase anything right, and eventually Felix gives up.

"Never mind," he says, and starts to make his way down the corridor, "Lets just got to next lesson."

Seungmin nods, but he's only a few steps further down the corridor when a bell rings. He brushes off, but Felix looks up and his face turns pale.

Seungmin frowns. It's just a normal bell, even he can tell that, but there's got to be a reason that Felix looks so worried. It's not something seen often on the other boys's face.

Felix opens his mouth, reaching for Seungmin's sleeve, but before he can speak, the corridor fills with what feels like hundreds of students, all trying to travel in their own respective directions. The two boys are quickly separated by the rush of people, and Seungmin suddenly realises why Felix looked so concerned.

He tries to push past the crowd of people, tries to catch up with Felix, but it's not use. There's simply too many bodies around him, and despite his best efforts, he's actually being pushed backwards.

There are arms and legs, and he's hit with the sudden realisation that he has no idea where to go next, even if he does manage to free himself from the crowd. Now that he's lost Felix, he doesn't even know what his next class is.

It's that thought that makes him stop walking, and it's because he stops walking that he notices where he is.

At the bottom of a huge marble stairway. It's packed with students all trying to get past each other, so much so that the white floor can barely be seen. The intricate carvings on the side of the banisters are ignored in favour of harsh shoves and curses.

Someone yells, "Woojin!"

Seungmin looks up, because the voice is just frantic enough for his heart to sink, and because the name is just familiar enough that he already knows he's too late.

There's a boy, falling.

In a strange way, he looks like an angel. His shirt flies out behind him, hair splayed behind his head as he flies towards the ground. His mouth is open in shock, the realisation not quite hit and the beginnings of fear a few second to late. No sound comes out of his lips.

Around Seungmin, the students grind to a halt. There's no shoving. No cursing. It's all they can do but stay in shocked silence, as One falls to the ground in slow motion.

And then suddenly, he's not falling any more.

His head hits the concrete.

For a second, Seungmin thinks that it might be okay. That One- Woojin- is just going to get up and shake the fall off. He might shed a few tears, have a few mottled bruises staining his skin for a few days, but he'd be fine.

Then he notices how open his eyes are.

How they don't blink.

How they've glossed over.

How they're devoid of anything that could ever be mistaken for life.

And then there's a halo of blood seeping out from somewhere hidden by Woojin's short brown hair. The coppery liquid surrounds him in an ever growing circle, clumping his hair together and painting his pale skin.

His lips are already slightly blue. Tinged with the hints of death already, his entire body slowly turning an ashen grey. One of arms is at an angle that should be impossible. The only reason why it isn't is because of the bone that peeks out from his elbow, splintered almost beyond recognition.

His eyes are still open.

Seungmin doesn't know how he ever thought Woojin could be okay.

_Then there's movement behind him, higher on the stairs than Seungmin had looked before. A brown-haired boy with dark eyes pushes past a bag that had been left so carelessly in the centre of the stairway._

_Woojin had tripped over it, Seungmin realises. He can just about make out his foot connecting with the fabric in his minds eye, the surprised look as he was suddenly in mid air, catapulting too quickly towards the ground._

_And the brown-haired boy knows that._

_He doesn't turn around, but he doesn't need to. Seungmin could recognise him anywhere. It's the face that his heart yearns to see, the smile that makes his whole body freeze up._

_But that doesn't mean Seungmin hesitates._

_Yet again, his fingers fasten around the ribbon on his wrist, and he pulls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the kind comments on the last chapter you're so sweet <3


	5. Two: To Be Free

When he wakes up, the world seems to still be spinning. It's just for a few seconds, but it's still enough to make his stomach turn. He has to press his fingers to his temples, trying not to close his eyes even when the light in the room is overwhelming. He screws up his forehead in concentration and begins to climb out of bed.

Then he stops.

Putting his hand over his eyes, he walks over to the window opposite his bed.

He doesn't know why it grabs his attention. It's a normal window. The curtains are a soft grey, matching the colour of his bedsheets and slightly worn. Through the glass, he can see Jisung and Felix arrive outside his house. They laugh for a few seconds, before sitting on the wall. Felix glances behind himself once, but he doesn't see Seungmin.

There's nothing strange about the scene at all.

Seungmin frowns. He can't shake off the thought that something is different. It's only as he goes to shrug off his pyjamas that he realises that the curtains weren't open the last time he woke up.

And yet they were now.

Something has changed.

He quickly pulls them closed, but there's a weird feeling in his stomach. It's not the nausea from earlier- that's practically all disappeared- but more of a sense of confusion. He continues to get changed, climbing into the same outfit from yesterday, but can't quite concentrate.

Even as he stumbles and falls backwards, tearing a hole in his trousers and feeling the red hot pain in his leg, it doesn't feel quite as strong as it did before. The pain is still there, it's just that he can't seem to focus on it. It blends into the background, his thoughts too preoccupied with the window to even consider worrying about the blood slowly trickling down his leg.

Then, it's almost as if a lightbulb goes off in his head.

Equal and opposite reactions.

He changed time when he saved Minho, and so time changed something back. Something so small and meaningless that it doesn't seem significant at all but, SSeungmin glances back, had probably had a huge effect at some point.

A shiver runs down his back.

Time can be malicious. He knows that more than anyone, and maybe that's what makes the window so hard to simply shrug off. But he has too. There's nothing that he can change there, so he should only focus on what he came here to do.

It's so simple in theory, but it doesn't stop his stomach from churning.

He shakes his head, putting it out of his mind and grabbing the apple and bag before heading out. He even manages to fake a grin for Felix, as Jisung calls out for him as soon as he steps out.

"You okay? We were just about to give up and walk to school without you." He says. Felix stands up, ready to grab Seungmin's sleeve to pull him out of the gate, but Seungmin's too fast. He's on the pavement before the other boy has even stood up, head tilted up towards the sky.

"I had to convince him to stay." Says Felix, but the confusion is evident in his voice. He obviously wasn't expecting Seungmin to be in such a rush, and so doesn't continue speaking in favour of catching up.

Seungmin links arms with Felix, glancing behind him for Jisung. "I guess I'm just tired. Stayed up all night-"

"Reading?" Jisung and Felix chorus at the same time, barely a glance exchanged between them. Their hands flew to their mouths, trying to hide the laughter.

Seungmin smiles, but his heart isn't in it. Instead, he says, "I don't need a lecture. It won't happen again," and watches as Jisung's mouth closes around the words he was just about to say. "Besides," Seungmin glances at Jisung again, and this time his smile is real, "As if you're any better. I bet you spent the night dreaming about Minho again."

Jisung goes red, a shade that's becoming familiar.

Felix laughs at his friend, reaching over Seungmin to flick Jisung in the forehead. "It's obvious, you idiot. The whole school knows about your big crush at this point. That's Big Crush with a capital B and C, by the way."

"He likes you back, you know," says Seungmin nudging Jisung with his shoulder, "You should go and talk to him."

Jisung shakes his head, but there's no emotion behind it. "As if," he says, "As if _Minho_ would ever like me-"

But he never gets go finish. They've arrived at school, and Felix suddenly pushes the other boy into the crowd, just close enough that he trips and stumbles through the ring of people.

And right into Minho's arms.

Seungin doesn't need to watch this time. He knows what will happen, exactly when to walk up to them and tell them to get a move on. At exactly which second to turn his head, just in time to see a car slid across the courtyard, its only victim a few stray flyers.

"Minnie?" Says Felix when he sees Seungmin looking, trying to see what he's looking at. He can't see anything, of course, but Seungmin doesn't leave him any time to get confused. Before he can ask again, he pulls him towards class, throwing himself into his seat and unpacking his bag.

Then it's just a matter of waiting.

Again, his eyes are pulled to the window. Again, his stomach twists and he can't help but feel slightly ill. Head spinning, bile beginning to rise in his throat, palms clammy.

He glances at the clock.

Not yet.

Not yet, he can't afford to run into Jungeun again.

Not yet, he can't afford to lose that much time to a conversation that didn't even matter.

Not yet, he can't afford to be delayed for even a seco-

His hand flies into the air, though he barely even realised he was moving. "Can I go to the loo?"

The teacher frowns, equally as confused as the first time. Seungmin must really not look like the type of person to speak up, but the teacher doesn't spend too much time thinking about it anyway. She gestures to the door with a dismissive wave, and just like that, Seungmin is out of the class. He was out of the door before the teacher had even fully raised their hand, but ignores the confused charters he leaves behind him.

Felix calls after him, but her doesn't stop.

It doesn't matter how he acts, not really.

As long as they're safe, as long as their lives aren't in danger, he doesn't have to show a single second of decency.

He doesn't have to worry about what people think.

It's just another day in a long line, and he doesn't have the patience to change every person's opinion of him, not when he has more important things to be doing.

He turns a corridor, and sees Jisung, Chan about to call out to him. But s he can't stop. "Sorry, really need the loo," s he says, and doesn't stop walking. They don't even get the chance to open their mouths.

Maybe he should feel a bit bad, especially as Chan smiles as he walks away, but Seungmin doesn't have the time to wait around and smile back. Before the other boy has even turned his head, he's gone.

From inside the classrooms on both sides of the corridor, the sounds become louder. Students beginning to pack up in the anticipation of being let out.

"Hey!" Calls a voice, and Seungmin doesn't need to look behind him to know it's Felix, carrying both bags with pink cheeks. The other boy come to find him again, wondering and worrying about where his friend had gone.

Seungmin sprints away.

He can just about hear Felix's confused shouts, but he doesn't have time to explain himself. Instead, he practically launched himself around corner after corner, following his instincts until-

There.

His hands latch around the bag straps, and he pulls. It's heavy, much heavier than he was expecting, even with the corner of a textbook peeking out from between the metal teeth of the zips. But even as his wrist protests, it's enough. The bag slides across the floor. Safely out of the way.

There's just enough time to breathe out, to look around, before the bell rings again.

Just as shrill as he remembered it, and just as chaotic. Every door around him seems to open at the same time, unleashing an endless stream of students into the once-silent corridor. Just like before, he's pushed down the corridor, a tidal wave taking him down the stairs and far away. He has to push against the rows to stay close, flinching every time a body is pressed against his, the hairs on his arms rising uncomfortably.

And then-

"Woojin!" A voice calls, and the movement of the crowd grinds to a halt.

Woojin is tumbling.

Down the stairs, down through the air, down towards the hard tiled floor. Seungmin's heart sinks, a sick feeling of dread causing his head to spin. For a second, he thinks he's going to throw up, not ready to see him die again.

And then he realises that this feeling is familiar, that he's felt it before. That his head spinning is because time is splitting around him, tearing itself apart and screaming as it does so.

Woojin hits the floor, but he's up almost straight away. Cheeks pink, ankle at a funny angle, but he's blinking and breathing and that's all Seungmin needs.

He's so close to letting out a sob of relief, so close to finally letting out the breath se's been holding when someone shouts with an all-too familiar sense of panic.

At the top of the staircase is a huge set of windows. He hadn't paid attention to them before, but now there are students crowding around, murmuring in confusion.

The windows have a perfect view of the field on the left side of the school, and therefore the perfect view of the football game that's underway. And therefore the perfect view of a body- a young boy- lying in the middle of the field. There's a ball by his head, and the grass is just stained enough that Seungmin can work out what happened.

The colour is too dark to be mud.

"That's Lee Minho!" He hears the boy next to him whispering, nudging his friend, "Isn't he dating Han Jisung now? God, he's going to be devastated."

And Seungmin doesn't need to turn round to see Jisung sprinting back down the corridor, Chan and Changbin not too far behind him. Pushing through the crowd in desperation, eyes wide with a feral kind of fear. He doesn't need to see his face drain of colour, or how he collapses to the floor.

_His fingers are by his wrist, just as he sees the familiar flash of dark hair. Too close, and yet not close enough. The head tilted too far away, but if Seungmin wanted to, he could reach out and touch him._

_Look him in the eyes._

_His fingers move on their own, tugging before he's ready to go, just as the boy turns around, as he opens his mouth to speak._

_His words are lost to the void, as Seungmin pulls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have all but one chapters of this fic finished, so now it's just a matter of changing EVERY SINGLE PRONOUN AND NAME
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Two: Alone In the Dark

Seungmin wakes up with his head spinning. He's so used to the feeling now that it's familiar, expected even. And as he looks around his room, he doesn't need to change anything.

The curtains are open, but he lets his body move without thinking. It knows what to do at this point, so he just tips his head back. No use paying attention to the same things.

Instead, he focuses on trying to solve the problem of Woojin and Minho. He can't be in two places at once, no matter how many times he travels back. His mind stretches out, spinning over idea after idea, all discarded until-

His hand freezes over a hair pin.

Could that-

Well, it doesn't matter if it doesn't work. He always has tomorrow if it goes wrong.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

He slips it into his hair and stops worrying about it, not even sparing a thought to whether it looked too feminine. Grabs his bag, grabs an apple. Talks to Jisung and convinces him to confess to Minho. Laughs along with Felix.

Then he's suddenly struck with an idea.

"Isn't class starting soon?" Seungmin says, and Felix glances at him. "I just don't want to be late for lessons. In fact, you should probably go inside with them."

"With them?" Felix's frown deepens, "Minnie, what-"

"I'm gonna go to the changing rooms. Mind telling me how to get there?"

Felix explains with far too many hand movements for Seungmin's liking, but he just about understands. His legs are already moving backwards, so before Felix can begin to ask why he wanted to know again, he's already gone.

It doesn't take him long to find the changing rooms, even if he does take a wrong turn in his haste to get away from Felix. The other boy calls after him, but Seungmin doesn't even turn around. He's too focused on his current task, and if Felix's life isn't in danger than he can't waste his time there.

Though it seems harsh, it's necessary.

He quickly corrects his mistake, tries to shrug off the initial embarrassment and burning cheeks, and rounds the corner to the door.

Exactly where they said it would be. It's even slightly open, not quite shut properly by the last person to use it, and really, what better luck could he ask for? He only has to open the door.

He steps inside.

The lockers are all metal, and for a second he thinks they're identical. The same grey colour, the same rusted lock system. His heart sinks, and then he sees more in the corner, more specifically a locker painted in a bright yellow. There's a sticker of a cat on the dented metal, cheerful despite the peeling paint that surrounds it. At the very top, someone's written a name in sharpie.

_Minho :D_

It's his.

It's definitely his.

Seungmin doesn't waste time. He reaches into his hair and extracts the hair pin. Luckily, the locks are just as cheap as he had hoped. They don't stand a chance against him, not when he's been doing this since he could walk. After barely a minute, the lock breaks, the door opening with a creaking sound that makes his teeth stand on edge.

He's in.

He doesn't have enough time to cover his tracks with the lock, or even to take in the contents of Minho's locker, though he can't help but smile when she sees that it's completely plastered in Polaroid's of Minho's various friends, all with huge grins on their faces. There's an empty banana milk bottle, a few loose pieces of paper with practice timetables on them, a half eaten sandwich and-

In the middle of the mess is his uniform.

Seungmin grabs it, pulling in between the bottle and a small cat plushie. His heart's racing in his chest, and he's just about to push the locker door shut when there's a sound.

Talking. From outside the door where he'd come in.

He took too long.

The players were here.

There isn't time to try and escape, even if there is a window that he could probably climb out through, and he can't pretend that he got lost, because he's got an obviously stolen uniform clutched in his hands.

So he does the next best thing.

Hide.

He dives behind an old table tennis set, where it's been lent against the wall just enough that he can squeeze his body into the gap left. With one hand, he reaches out and pulls a trolley full of various types of balls to his side, effectively covering up the space where he'd climbed through.

And not a second to fast, because less than a moment later, the door to the changing rooms is thrown open, and the room fills with sound.

The clothes are heavy in his hand, the soft fabric almost impossible to hold. It burns his palm with the feeling, begging his to let it go, to give up and just let Minho die. Time screams at him like a banshee, each breath he takes pulling the strings tighter and tighter.

But he doesn't drop it.

If anything, he clings to it tighter, pulling it his chest and squeezing as hard as he can. Tries to tilt his head backwards, an attempt to even out his breathing.

He has to stay hidden.

He has to.

Behind his, the chatter of the players becomes louder. All of what he can hear is useless- meaningless small talk about girlfriends and the latest episode of some television drama. The air is filled with laughter, but that only makes Seungmin even more nervous. His heart hammers in his chest, so hard he almost thinks it's about to burst out, showering the wall he's pressed against in red.

Then, he hears Minho. His voice is familiar, though it's been over a year since Seungmin last heard it. "Why's my locker open?" He asks, only to be met with a chorus of confused sounds and shrugs.

"Maybe it's one of the girls?" A boy with a surprisingly reedy voice suggests, "You know, maybe one of your obsessed fans or something."

"Maybe," says Minho, and Seungmin can hear the frown in his voice. Someone walks right past Seungmin's hiding place, shoes echoing on the tiled floor like something out of a horror movie. His breath almost catches in his throat, but he forces himself to stay calm, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his palms.

There's a moment of silence, a lull in the chatter, and then Minho exclaims, "My uniform's gone!"

The atmosphere of the changing rooms completely changes. It explodes in noise, people yelling about 'disgusting perverts' and debating over who could have done it. None of them stop to think that the thief could still be in the same room of them, along with the stolen uniform. Instead, they accuse what sounds like practically everyone in the school, before actually trying to do something about it.

"What do I do?" Asks Minho, and he sounds angry. The footsteps by Seungmin's hiding place pass by again, pacing in frustration.

 _Give up,_ thinks Seungmin,  _give up and go home. Skip the game today. Give up._

"You could borrow my uniform?" Suggests a new voice, and there's the rustle of fabric. Minho's probably holding it up to himself, seeing how it would fit, biting his lip like he always did when he was nervous.

 _Say no,_ thinks Seungmin,  _it doesn't fit. You can't stop someone else from playing. Just give up._

"Really?" Asks Minho.

Seungmin's heart stops.

"Yeah!" Says the boy, "You're our star player- we can't go on without you! Besides," he sighs, "It's not like I'm going to be able to play with my broken leg. It's the least I can do."

That's met with various sounds, all commenting on what a great sacrifice he's made "Thanks," saysMinho, and the relief in his voice is easy to hear, "Seriously. I owe you one."

The changing rooms begin to chat again, resuming their conversations like nothing happened. The boy nearest Seungmin stops pacing, and before long they're filing out of the door, ready to warm up for the game they're about to play. They don't know that halfway through the game, a ball will connect with Minho's skull. That he'll never get the chance to pay the other boy back, and that the blood stains will probably never come out of the borrowed uniform.

Seungmin takes a deep breath.

_His fingers are around his wrist. It's too dark to see the end of the ribbon, but he knows where it is instinctively. He doesn't need light, not to rewind time._

_It's easy to pull this time, maybe because it's so early in the day, or maybe because he's getting more used to the plunging sensation, the bile rising in his throat and absence of air in his lungs._

_He's used to it._

_He expects the pain._

_He also expects to see a flash of brown hair, a soft smile and missed touch. But there's nothing, except the endless black of the hanging rooms, as time slows, hangs in the air for a second, before being violently ripped back._

_But, just before he melts away, and maybe it's his imagination, he thinks he feels something beside his. Someone maybe, the soft touch of fingers at his other wrist, the whisper of breath by his ear._

_And then he's gone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the comments i've received on this have been so nice ahhh i love you all <3


	7. Two: Rusted Scissors

The morning is just like every other.

Battle the nausea.

Pull the curtains shut.

Fall backwards into the nail, tearing the side of his leg open, and ignore the wound.

He grabs his bag and an apple, but slips a pair of scissors that were conveniently on his desk into the hem of his trousers. They're heavy, the silver metal stained red and orange from rust, and the blades are sharp. The cold metal presses against his side in a way that's almost painful, but it keeps his mind on the task ahead. Keeps the hair slide from yesterday pulling his hair away from his face, reminding him of what he has to avoid.

He walks to school like normal, the words coming naturally at this point, and only begins to change things when he's standing right in front of the school, watching as Felix and Jisung begin to talk.

"Felix, make sure you don't miss class," Seungmin says, already beginning to walk backwards towards the changing rooms and hoping that Felix gets the message. He needs as much time as possible to destroy the net, and can't afford to waste any more precious seconds with the other boy.

Felix frowns, "What? Minnie-"

"I'm going to the changing rooms. See you later!"

Felix goes to step forward, but Seungmin is already gone, tracing his steps from yesterday down the endless corridors until he's outside of the changing rooms. The door is open- just like last time. His hand goes to the hair clip in his hair, but he doesn't need it. Instead, he simply pushes the door open and steps inside, making sure to close it behind him.

The rows of lockers on the left side of the room seem to stare at him with invisible eyes. The bright yellow of Minho's makes him feel a bit ill, the colour way too vivid next to the silver and grey of the rest. Even the peeling stickers seem to mock him.

He's glad to turn away, even if he can still feel its presence behind him.

It doesn't take long to identify the nets- someone has helpfully piled them up in a corner of the room, next to the footballs and goalposts. The material is much heavier than he thought it'd be, and slightly damp from the warm air in the changing rooms. It has the distinct smell of must and mud from years ago.

He gets out the scissors and begins to cut.

If his memory is right, he has about a minute before any of the players arrive. There isn't a spare net anywhere (that he can see), so it's in that time frame that he does as much damage as he can. His fingers ache from the repeated action, blunt blades not designed for ripping through such fabric. They catch too many times, pulling at his skin until it's bright red.

Bits of netting fall to the floor, decorating his shoes with tiny pieces of fabric. It surrounds him like ugly snowflakes.

 _Snip,_ go the scissors in his hand,  _snip snip sni-_

The faint sound of approaching chatter from the corridor tells him that his time is up. He drops the net into the floor, not bothering to fold it neatly and crawls into the same space as last time, tucking his knees against his chest and tilting his head backwards until his breathing evens out. The trolley full of balls is by his side again, obscuring any part of him that may have been visible, and the metal of the scissors digs into his palm from where he's gripping it too tightly.

The door to the changing room opens, and the room fills with sound.

It's all meaningless chatter, conversation to fill the time as they pull on their uniforms. Crushes, the same episode of the television show as yesterday, the latest gossip. Just as dull as the first time he heard it.

Each locker squeaks as it's opened, fabric rustling as they each pull on their uniforms. It doesn't take them long to get changed, and before long the footsteps approach the ruined net. Someone moves the football out of the way and picks it up, the very end on the fabric just in Seungmin's line of sight.

Of course it's Minho.

Seungmin just about makes out his face as he holds up the net against himself, obviously wondering why it wasn't in the neat pile it had been left in.

Then he sees the gaping hole.

Where the net has been cut beyond repair in too many places to count, sections missing wherever he looked. The scissor work not even neat- parts only halfway cut or hanging loose.

But all that matters is that it's ruined, and that Minho can't play.

"What the-" In Minho's confusion, he can't quite get the words out to finish his sentence. There's the movement of fabric against the dusty floor, and a few shocked gasps. Muttering getting louder. Multiple pairs of feet running towards where Minho must be standing, trying to figure what exactly has happened.

And then there's silence.

The boys not able to voice their confusion, not able to accuse each other because they know that no one in the room would do such a thing.

Because they don't know that Seungmin is there, heart beating against his rib cage like it's a tiny bird. Its beating wings flapping furiously, beak driven into the soft flesh of his heart in a desperate attempt to escape.

"What are we going to do?" Says a voice that Seungmin doesn't recognise, "We can't play if we don't have a net."

 _Good,_ thinks Seungmin,  _call the game off._

"Is there enough time to try and fix it?" Someone else suggests, but it's quickly shot down. None of them have the skills or the time, and any attempt they could make wouldn't last a single hit.

There's some more muttering. Another suggestion too quiet for Seungmin to hear but just as useless as the last.

_Give up._

_Don't play._

_Please._

Someone kicks a wall by the sound of it, a hollow thump that echoes around his mind. The sound is painful in its level, and Seungmin's breath catches in his throat as his entire body tenses up.

It's too close for comfort. His hand is by his wrist without even thinking, poised in the inevitably of him being discovered. A loose thread brushes against the tip of his finger, sending goosebumps up his arm. Every single one of his senses is amplified, sending shooting pains trough his skull.

There's also a much softer sound, although he can tell there's just as much force behind the action. The net, thrown at the wall in frustration. Gaping hole in the middle exposed for all the world to see.

"We'll have to call the game off." Says a new voice, this one much older after the nervous chatter had died down. Someone must have gotten the coach, though Seungmin didn't hear the door open or close.

It's met with a chorus of groans, but the coach only sighs, "I know, I know. But it'll only be postponed by a day or two." A pause, "I'm sorry boys. I know how much you trained for this. It's just- who could have done this?"

That's met with another lot of mutters, though the mood quickly turns sour. What was once disappointment and confusion morphs into anger before Seungmin can even bat an eyelid. Curses fly around the room, tension charging the air with an almost tangible electricity.

Someone leans on the trolley of balls, heels kicked up against the wire frame. Hair short and dark, and Seungmin realises almost a second too late that it's Minho, kicking the metal in his frustration.

He's so close to seeing Seungmin.

If he turned his head just the smallest fraction of an angle to the left, if his eyesight was just the slightest bit better-

The door slams open, and Minho is back up on his feet. He moves back out of Seungmin's line of sight, but there's no time to be relieved or to even let a single breath out. The door had been opened with such force that Seungmin is suddenly reminded of what he had forgotten.

If the throbbing of his head wasn't already enough, the web of time being pulled tighter and tighter.

He knows exactly what happened before the news is exclaimed.

"Minho, Han Jisung was hit by a car! In the quad, he had your bag and, I- I'm pretty sure he's not going to make it."

_The changing room erupts. Cries of shock and heartfelt questions as everyone tries to leave the room at the same time._

_Seungmin stays silent. His fingers were already by his wrist, but he doesn't jump when there's a movement from beside him. Cold fingers resting just on top of his own, as light as a butterfly._

_As the nausea begins to set in, time dipping from around him, he smiles. The presence of someone else beside him even if it is just in his imagination, is soothing in a way he can't quite describe._

_He pulls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise that the other members will be in it soon oops


	8. Two: Parachute Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip woojin getting the smallest part in the fic
> 
> and about halfway through i realised that it was all in the wrong tense, so if there are any weird bits or wrong pronouns please point them out <3

His head is still spinning when he wakes up. He half expects to still be crouched behind the table when he opens his eyes, his legs still cramped and heart still racing.

If he really tries, he can still feel the ghost of fingertips at his wrist.

He shakes his head, trying to forget the feeling. It helps as he goes through the normal routine, managing to suppress all his fears and worries, focusing on what he knows it right. His bag and the apple is exactly where they've been every single morning, the hair slide pins his hair away from her face.

The scissors are cold against his skin.

But he concentrates on that feeling as he walks to school, not even having to think about the words coming of his mouth until-

"Isn't class about to start?"

Felix turns to face him, frowning. "I don't think so? We should have a few more minutes at least. Why?"

Seungmin shakes his head. "No, you've got to get to class now."

"Minnie, what are you talki-"

Seungmin takes a step back. His eyes don't break contact with Felix's, and he hopes that it's enough for the other boy to take him seriously. He can't overestimate the amount of trust between them, not again. "Please. I'll explain later I promise. Just get to class now, and take Jisung with you."

"Min-"

But Seungmin's already walking away, forcing himself not to run back until he's about to enter the school building. As he turns, he manages to catch sight of Felix dragging Jisung and Minho behind him. Into the hallway, where they can't be harmed.

Safe.

They're safe.

Seungmin lets out a breath he didn't know he's been holding. And then turns, practically sprinting towards the changing rooms in a mimic of what he did yesterday. The scissors dig into his side even more, but he ignores the feeling, instead focusing on cutting huge holes from the net.

 _Snip,_ go the scissors in his hand,  _snip snip sni-_

And he knows when the players arrive the second before he hears the chatter from outside. He's already tucked behind the table, already tiling his head back and focusing on his breaths, already fully hidden.

And he stays that way until the last of the football players leave, someone slamming the door with enough force to make the whole room ring with sound. Despite the imminent danger being over, Seungmin can't bring himself to move. Relief washes over his body- he's done it, he's managed to save Minho's life- but there isn't any time to rest properly.

He has to move quickly.

The scissors are abandoned on the floor when he crawls out, the metal now useless. He doesn't need it digging into his side for any longer, not when he doesn't have any use for it. And it could raise questions if someone discovered it on him, questions that he doesn't have time to answer. So he pushes them away with his foot, kicking them into the very corner of the room where they hopefully won't be discovered for a very long time.

He has to try the door embarrassingly, knowing how it must look to anyone walking past. But he has to hope.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't open.

But that's okay. He planned for this. The hair slide is between his fingers before he even has time to think, and he unlocks the door in under a minute. His fingers move deftly, working around the stiff metal like it's nothing more than folding paper.

Seungmin barely even needs to think about his movements. It comes naturally at this point.

He's been doing this since he was a child, though he really doubts this was the intended purpose for his skills.

There's a familiar click, and he pushes the door open, sliding the clip back into his hair and straightening up like nothing ever happens. One hand goes down to smooth over his trousers, and the other pushes the door shut behind him, leaving the changing room.

It doesn't take any time at all to find the classroom he's supposed to be in either, though by this time the bell has already rung and he has to apologise to the teacher when he enters the class. There aren't any awakened questions about where he's been, so he just sits down in his seat and waits for the minute hand on the clock to reach the right time.

Behind him, Felix leans over, poking a pencil directly between Seungmin's shoulder blades.

It hurts, and Felix obviously wants him to turn round, wants Seungmin to tell him why he left in such a hurry that morning. The pencil digs in a little harder, and Seungmin can't help but feel slightly bad for the other boy.

But he still doesn't turn around.

He has no answers that would make sense, and he definitely can't tell the truth. So he has to ignore Felix, straightening his back and staring directly at the teacher. Eventually, the pencil drops away, chattering onto the desk. There's an annoyed force in the action, the frustration of being ignored by a friend.

It's that sound that makes Seungmin freeze.

Although Felix's life has never been in danger, although he doesn't even have to be remotely nice to the other boy, Seungmin still needs him. After this lesson, Felix gets out early and tries to hand Seungmin his bag.

How will Seungmin know where to go if Felix isn't there?

How will he know is he's in danger?

He may not have been killed at any point yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen.

No.

Seungmin needs to keep Felix close, make sure he's safe. Heart sinking, he turns round to face the other boy, already regretting the action when he sees the betrayal on Felix's face.

"I'm sorry," he says, so,  _so_ quietly that he isn't even sure Felix heard it until the other boy frowns. The pencil's back between his fingers, rolling between them in a way to keep the pent-up nervous energy at bay.

"Minnie-" Felix begins, "Minnie, what's happening?"

Seungmin can only shake his head. "I'm sorry," he repeats, feeling incredibly useless, "but you've got to let me explain later. Come find me after class?"

Felix nods, but his hand never stops moving. "Of course, but-"

"You  _have_ to find me. I'll meet you just after the bell rings."

"Sure, but-"

"I'm sorry."

Seungmin doesn't wait to hear what Felix has to say. He turns back around to face the board, eyes fixed upon the clock again. It's a few seconds later than the last time he left, and he curses. He definitely doesn't have time to explain, not if he's already late. Even a few seconds could make the biggest difference, and no matter how rude it seems, he can't miss the timing, not when Woojin's life is at stake.

He puts his hand in the air, barely even waiting for the teacher to acknowledge him before making his way out of the classroom. He doesn't need to wait for permission, and hopefully it should buy the time he'd lost back, the extra few seconds he'd gained by not waiting for permission already incredibly valuable.

He makes his way down the same corridor, spotting Chan and practically sprinting past him. Changbin opens his mouth, about to call after him, but Seungmin is already late. "Sorry, I really need the loo," he yells, and doesn't stop running to even hear if they replied.

The noise from the classrooms becomes louder, and Felix is behind him, calling after Seungmin and carrying both of their bags.

" _After_ the bell rings!" Seungmin yells back, turning for only a second to wave at the other boy. The corridor hums with a kind of pent-up energy, and Seungmin knows he's running out of time.

But he turns the corner, and sees the bag, and almost cries in relief.

His hand wraps around the handle and pulls, and he's expecting the weight so it moves easily. The textbook falls from between the metal teeth, and he uses his foot to kick it away in one last burst of energy. It flies down the stairs, pages spread out  _like Woojin's clothes, a pale angel falling from above and the blood on the concrete floor_ and makes a hollow sound as it lands.

There's just enough time to breathe out. To steady his legs, clutching onto the hand rail and trying to calm his heart. The nausea is back, swirling around his body like a tsunami and filling his limbs with lead. He can barely stand and-

"Woojin!" A voice calls, as the school bell rings and the corridor fills with people. There are bodies everywhere, all pushing, none even sparing Seungmin a second glance, and then the voice rings out. The crowd grinds to a stop.

Woojin falls.

For a second, for a single terrible second, Seungmin genuinely believes he's going to die.

But then time rips, like a sheet of paper held slightly too tightly, like the delicate tissue paper around the most delicate glass gift. It rips, and it changes, and Seungmin's done it.

Woojin hits the floor, but he's up almost straight away, cheeks pink and ankle at a funny angle. There's the slightest smudge of a bruise already beginning to blossom on his right cheek, but he's blinking and breathing and that's all Seungmin needs.

He doesn't need to stay on the stairs any longer, not when the football pitch behind him is empty. The grass is clean of stains, and he knows that the ball lies discarded in the changing rooms, less than a metre away from the heavy metal scissors.

The ribbon around his wrist tightens ever so slightly, cutting into his skin. It ties off his blood circulation, and he brings his other hand to it, massaging the sore skin. The fabric is still so soft, and the loose thread dances across his skin when he moves his fingers.

It dances, and for a second he almost forgets about every ribbon he's already untied. Every fraction of space and time he's cut through, wrapping himself in the leftover fragments.


	9. Three: Third Time Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet this is short but i'll probably update again tomorrow
> 
> tw for a mention of a car accident

Felix is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. His arms are crossed, eyebrows raised, and although he doesn't look particularly angry, he's obviously still annoyed.

Seungmin can't blame him.

He passes Seungmin his bag, and he swings it over his shoulder. The huge crowd of people around the staircase is beginning to disperse, and someone's carrying Woojin to the medical room. All that's left, all that shows that anything ever happened in the first place, is a small crimson stain on the tiled floor.

Felix jumps over it as they begin to make their way to the next class. He doesn't ask Seungmin to explain, but instead walks in silence. The sound of his shoes bounce off the walls of the corridor, too loud in the new silence. Each step echoes in his head. It's not long until he breaks.

"I'm sorry," Seungmin starts, flinching as Felix doesn't even turn to look at him. His mind races for a suitable excuse, something that isn't quite the truth but remains believable.

It's hard.

Much harder than he thought lying would be, but then again, he's never really had any cause to lie to anyone before. And even then, he's never been the best at talking to people. Words don't come easily to him. He speaks in half-finished sentences, stuttered words and awkward smiles.

"I heard someone planning to trip Woojin up yesterday. I don't know why- really don't know why, but it sounded like they were going to do something horrible."

Felix gasps. He can't help it, but his hand flies to her mouth. The facade of ignoring Seungmin crumbles like shortbread, falling to pieces beneath the softest of touches.

"And?" He whispers, when Seungmin doesn't immediately continue. The few remaining crumbs of his attempt on ignorance melt in his mouth.

Seungmin's mind races, but he's managed to think up a slightly-plausible excuse. "I thought that I should tell Chan, so I went to the music rooms to try and find him, except he wasn't even there."

"He was going to perform something for the game today," Felix echoes, "But it was called off last-minute."

"That's, uh, that's why I was acting so weird this morning. And I ran off because I wanted to try and move the bag myself. I couldn't just do nothing."

"The bag?"

"They put a bag on the stairs, so that- that he'd trip over it."

Felix stops walking. His head is tilted to the floor, hair obscuring his face. Seungmin freezes, wondering what he's done wrong, until Felix's hand grabs onto his sleeve. Fingers pale against the black fabric. "You did the right thing." His eyes meet Seungmin's, "You should have told me- but you did the right thing."

"There wasn't any time," says Seungmin, but it sounds weak even to him. If Felix notices, he doesn't say anything. By this point, they're outside of their next lesson. Pushing open the door, and being pulled into a seat at the back of the classroom. He has to assume this is where he's supposed to be sat, though there's a casual atmosphere that tells him that the teacher probably couldn't care less anyway.

The lesson ends up passing surprisingly quickly. Time seems to speed up, almost as if he blinked once and ended up missing the entire hour. None of what the teacher says makes any sense, nothing even vaguely staying in his mind.

Not that it needs to, though.

But by the end of the lesson, something is off. It's the same twisting in his gut, a familiar sickness, a heaviness to his limbs that he can't seem to shake off. His head spinning, eyes unable to focus. His fingers shake, palms suddenly clammy. There's a strange heat down his back even though the classroom is freezing, his clothes sticking to his skin with a feverish sheen.

Something is wrong.

But what?

What could possible be wrong?

Felix is sitting right next to him, completely unharmed. As they leave the classroom, Minho and Woojin join them, Minho supporting the older boy as he limps along. His smile is strained, a bandage wrapped around his head, partially covered by his hair, but he's mostly unharmed.

Seungmin hadn't expected them to join them, but he isn't about to complain. He can't complain absolutely them being there, not when it means that he can keep an eye on them. 

They're all fine.

Every single one of them, and Seungmin has counted every person about five times to make sure that he's not missing someone.

And he's not.

They're all here.

All safe, no one in danger, nothing that could possibly-

Minho's face goes pale. No one notices- not at first, because he's been quiet for a while now- but eventually Felix does. He does, he frowns, he looks over Minho's shoulder at the phone screen, and his face goes pale too.

Her fingers clutch at Seungmin's beneath the table, and that's when Seungmin sees the tears down Minho's face. The way that don't stop coming, his cheeks pink, breath unsteady.

The phone hits the table, displaying the screen for all to see.

_'Minho, have you heard? Some of your friends were in a car accident, and apparently one of them was that kid you liked. Ji-something? I don't think any of them survived. I'm so, so sorry.'_

_Seungmin doesn't recognise the ID of the sender. He doesn't recognise the car in the photo sent, or the tarmac of the motorway. But he recognises pale blonde hair - bleached one too many times -  in the background, and maybe he knew who it was anyway._

_His wrist aches._

_He goes to pull, the ribbon cutting into his circulation it's so tight around his skin, but-_

_There's someone behind him. Standing so close that he can almost feel the fringe of his shirt against his back, the lightest of lace brushing against his jacket. He can almost see the hair, and he almost turns around._

_But he doesn't._

_He pulls, instead._


	10. Three: Gravel in an Open Wound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh all the comments i've received on this have been so sweet i love you guys <3 it seriously makes my day
> 
> tw for a car crash and mentions of throwing up

The day practically passes in a blur, until he leaves the changing rooms after cutting holes into the football net. Seungmin can't pick out a single moment that's even slightly different to any other day. Even though his mind screams at him to pay more attention, he can't find the motivation in him.

It's exactly the same as any other day, so what's the point in paying attention?

Surely, it isn't worth it. Not when he could be trying to solve every other problem, his brain spinning out of control. Not when there's more pressing things on his mind.

So he simply lets his feet take him where they want to go. Lets his limbs move on their own. He opens his mouth without thinking, and barely even registers the words leaving it.

He's heard them all before.

He shuts the door to the changing rooms behind him, listening for the click that signifies that it's locked. Then he makes his way back to the classroom he's supposed to be in. It's a walk that seems even shorter the second time, and before long, he's leaving the classroom just in time to run into Chan, Changbin and Jisung in the corridor.

"Did you hear?" whispers Chan, "Minho and Jisung are dating now!"

Jisung rolls his eyes, whacking Chan on the arm, "Of course he knows, he was there!"

Seungmin only nods, not quite trusting his voice enough to speak. It's a small motion, but it's obviously enough as Chan says "We made a bet a few weeks ago about when they'd finally get together. And we've decided that the punishment for losing it should be skipping school."

Changbin rolls his eyes, but looks resigned to his fate. He pulls a face at Seungmin when he notices the other boy looking at him, wriggling his fingers as a way of greeting.

"The high and mighty Changbin? Skipping school?" Says Jisung, but his voice is distant.

Instead, Seungmin waits for Changbin to speak. He needs to know exactly when to speak, exactly when to try and save their lives, exa- "Minnie, do you want to come? There's a spare seat of you're up for it. Otherwis-"

"I'll come."

They all look at him in surprise. It is rather uncharacteristic for him to interrupt someone, Seungmin thinks, and he can already feel the embarrassment of all the eyes on him beginning to heat up his cheeks. But he doesn't stop talking. "I mean, I'll skip school with you."

Jisung grins. "That's great! We can leave now, but where's your ba-"

"On one condition."

Chan is the next to speak, frowning at Seungmin's sudden change in attitude. "What is it?" He asks, taking a step forward and staring Seungmin in the eyes.

He moves back unconsciously. "I, uh, have a test next lesson. Can we leave after lunch?"

Jisung glances at Chan, chewing on his lower lip. "I don't know, that seems.."

"Please?"

"Minnie, it's just that-"

"He's coming." Chan ends the debate that was just about to start with only a few words. The corridor falls silent as he opens his mouth, completely at his will and mercy. "We leave at lunch."

Seungmin glances behind him, hoping for any sort of clock that will give him an idea about what time it is. He needs to hurry up. He can't afford to waste time. And yet he doesn't want to appear rude, to rush off and jeopardise his place on the trip.

But eventually the fear of Woojin, tripping, tumbling,  _falling_ , wins out. "I, uh, have to go to the toilet." He says, and doesn't wait for a reply, practically pushing past Changbin in his rush to get to the staircase.

And not a second too soon.

He falls back into the rhythm of before easily, pulling the bag away without a single thought or conscious decision. Then it's back to class, back to sitting and waiting, back to-

Felix.

Seungmin watches as the lies come spilling out of his mouth, watching as the other boy believes them without even questioning him. How his eyes widen as Seungmin tells the story, despite the fact that he's obviously lying through his teeth.

The lies don't get easier, Seungmin finds.

It's strange, the way he still trips over the words. Everything else becomes easier with time, once happened so much easier to repeat. But the words still catch on his tongue, no matter how much he attempts to speak clearly.

He shakes his head, trying to free his mind from the clutter of thoughts begin to collect there.

Right.

He has a job to do.

They sit through the rest of the class in silence, Seungmin's mind millions of miles away, full of ideas and half-planned out attempts at saving them. His thoughts linger with crimson, stained around the edges.

Then, he realises something.

The cramping feeling in his stomach is gone. The lesson passes without any pain, without any sickness and nausea, but Seungmin doesn't trust the absence of the feeling. He knows that it's mostly down to the timing, that  _maybe_ they'd be fine if he didn't go with them. But he can't afford to take that risk.

It's better to be safe than sorry.

But he can't help but glance at Felix beside him. The boy is working hard on the worksheet in front of him, hair tucked behind his ear to stop it from falling into his eyes, and almost half of the blank spaces are filled in with neat pencil answers.

Seungmin's is just as blank as it was when it was handed out.

He can't help but worry about Felix. It's a strange feeling, a weird tension in his gut that simply won't disappear. Although it's kind of sick, and he wishes that it weren't true, he hopes that Felix is the next to die.

It's just... so far every person has only died once. And he doesn't want to think about not being there for Felix's almost certain end. He doesn't want to miss it. He wants to know where and when and how, and he wants to be able to stop it so it can never happen again.

In a strange way, the deaths don't actually affect him anymore,

It's  _all_ the uncertainty.

That's when an idea hits him. A quick mental tally of everyone going on the trip, and the size of the car he'd seen in the picture yesterday means that there's at least one seat free. Free for Felix.

Felix could come with them.

"Come on." Seungmin says as soon as they leave the class. The other boy was about to call Minho and Woojin over and make their way to the lunch hall, but he freezes at the sound of Seungmin's voice. Then follows, frowning.

Seungmin can't help but marvel at the trust Felix has in him.

He pulls Felix through the corridor, weaving his way through the huge crowds of people just quickly enough that there isn't the chance for words to be exchanged. They move in silence, and soon enough, they're standing in the courtyard in front of the school. Just where Chan and Jisung said they would be.

"Minnie! You made it!" Chan is by his side in an instant, swinging his arm over Seungmin's shoulder and using his other hand to ruffle the younger boy's hair affectionately. He doesn't seem to notice how Seungmin shrinks away from the physical contact, or if he does, he ignores it.

Felix's hand doesn't drop from Seungmin's arm. "Minnie?" He asks, fingers wrapping so tightly around his skin that it's sure to leave marks.

Changbin finishes his conversation with Jisung, and walks over to Seungmin and Felix, obviously catching the tail-end of Felix's question, "What? What's happening now? Hi Minnie and, uh-"

"Felix," says Felix, and his fingers dig into Seungmin's arm even tighter than before. His eyes are narrowed at Changbin suspiciously. Changbin flinches back, obviously not expecting such immediate hostility.

"Okay." It doesn't take a genius to sense the tension between the two boys, and Chan obviously tries to diffuse the situation- albeit not very well. He doesn't know exactly what's going on, and they only fall into another awkward silence.

Seungmin finally speaks up. "Uh, I was wondering if Felix could join us? On the trip. There- wasn't there a spare seat?"

Chan and Changbin glance at each other, hesitant to speak. They communicate through the look, but Seungmin can't quite work out what's being said. That is, until Changbin speaks up.

"That's great!" He says, beaming and pulling Felix to his side, "We can take, uh-"

"Felix."

"Felix instead of Jeongin! That way we don't have to go with him, because it gives us the perfect excuse to say no!"

Chan frowns. "Changbin, he's your _brother_. Why don't you want him to go that much? Sure, he can be a bit loud, but it's not unbearable or anything."

Changbin clicks his tongue, shaking his head slowly at Chan like a teacher would to a toddler. "Oh, you think it's not  _unbearable._  Trust me-"

His face has gone slightly pink, and he hasn't realised that everyone is leaning away from hi,, slightly scared of the boy beginning to rant. Jisung, finally joining the conversation, places a hand on his shoulder, calming him down. "Lix! Chan, we have to let Felix come! It'll be so much fun!" 

Chanbin grins, obviously pleased with how quickly Chan has been outnumbered. "Plus, I know a shortcut past some... more 'raunchy' shops that we can take if Jeongin isn't there. That way we'd be able to spend more time at the lake."

Everyone stares at him.

"I thought you didn't want to go?" Says Jisung, completely missing the main reason why the rest of them are stunned into silence, "We had to practically drag you from class?"

"And?" Changbin smiles and shrugs, and then begins to walk towards the car that Seungmin assumes they'll be travelling in. The rest of them follow him like lost ducklings, still in awe, "If we're going to skip class, we might as well have fun whilst we do so."

They pile into the car, and Seungmin ends up clambering over the back of the seats into the very back of the car, next to where they've piled their school bags and various beach-going items that they got from who-knows-where. There's a spade poking into his side, and his elbow hits the plastic of a bucket shaped like a unicorn every time he moves, but other than that it's surprisingly comfy. Jisung and Changbin sit in the front, whilst the rest of them squeeze into the two middle seats.

The car engine bursts into life, and they're off.

It's only about five minutes into the journey that Seungmin realises that something is off.

The familiar tension in his stomach, his gut curling in on itself.

Changbin takes a left, the wheels on the car screeching in protest as he spins the wheel, and they're travelling down a section of streets that are, as he had put it, 'raunchy'. Seungmin tries not to look, cheeks burning at some of the signs outside of the rather run-down shops. The language on them is filthy, and some of the products displayed even filthier. He puts his head between his knees, trying to steady his breathing and figure out what was causing the sick feeling in his chest, what he needed to do next.

It's the reason why he doesn't look up again until he's sure they've left.

It's the reason that it takes him too long to see the road that they've turned out into.

Because it isn't just a road.

It's a motorway.

And Seungmin knows exactly what happens next.

He knows exactly when to turn his head to the left, just in time to see a huge truck spiral out of control. The driver grapples with control on the steering wheel frantically, but it's no use. One of the wheels catches on a car in the next lane over to them, despite every vehicle in the immediate vicinity attempting to swerve out of the way.

The truck stops moving, but only on one side. The rest of the wheels are still moving, and the main body of it is catapulted into the air, flipping over with the sickening crush of metal and what Seungmin can only expect as bone.

Changbin's foot had been glued to the accelerator, but the car in front of them swerved to the side, part of the roof of the car crushed by the lorry slicing straight through the glass as if it were a hot knife through butter.

In a moment of pure panic, he slams down on the brake, and their car screeches to a halt, spinning uncontrollably. They're thrown sideways.

The door on the front passenger side of the car doesn't survive the collision. It was ripped off as they crashed, and apparently it also took away part of the seatbelt, because as they spin, Jisung flies out of the gaping hole left. His body soars through the air for a few seconds, before landing completely still a few metres away.

And he isn't the only casualty of the movement. Chan's flung into the window. His head connects with the once-clear glass with a loud crack, and soon the window is coated with a deep coppery red. The air bag goes off too late, pushing his body backwards until it's pressed back against his chair. Felix's face is speckled with crimson.

Changbin looks at where Jisung used to be, and he screams. A loud sound that hurts Seungmin's ears, but not as much as when Felix's shrieks join him.

For a second Seungmin thinks that it's from seeing the shattered skull of what used to be Chan. Seeing the broken shards like the shell of an egg, or pieces of delicate china.

But Felix's looking past that.

He's looking at the huge shadow looming over them. The body of the truck that had been flipped into the air crashing back down to earth. The metal is already stained, dark with red and brown, and the metal is crumpled beyond recognition. Not that it matters, as it buckles the roof of their car, flattening the metal without so much of a second though.

With them still inside.

_Seungmin's fingers were at his wrist the moment he saw the motorway. There's bile in his throat that mixes with the remaining vomit that stains the front of his jacket and most of the car-seat in front of him. His throat stings from where the seatbelt dug into it, an angry red line drawn across his neck in bold sharpie._

_The dizziness is almost to much, the horror of seeing the bodies in front of him, and for a second he can't find the loose thread again._

_He thinks_ _he's going to die._

_But just as the roof of the car begins to cave inwards, just as the windows splinter into million of tiny shards of diamonds, just as the very tallest of the car seats tear, travelling white fluffy insides, someone pushes the edge of the ribbon into his hand._

_Fingers that are cold, but not uncomfortable._

_Hair that flashes in the very edge of his vision._

_A name, that sits on the tip of his tongue._

_He pulls._


	11. Three: Overflow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only a few more chapters to go lads
> 
> and jeongin FINALLY appears but it's literally for half a second 
> 
> tw for brief mentions of the car crash and drowning

He opens his eyes to the sound of crunching metal. The screams and crashes as the roof buckles beneath his head, throwing his arms over herself in an last attempt to protect himself. And then he actually sees what's in front of him, and tries to slow his breathing back down.

He's sitting bolt upright in his bed. The grey walls surround him like always, the curtains open and every single poster except one littering the carpet. But his body is drenched in sweat, his forehead almost feverish with heat, and he can't shake the image of blood drenching his body from the back of his eyelids.

Unlike every other time he's woken up, he can't quite shake off the day before.

It lingers around him as he gets changed, all the way through the day as he hides in the changing rooms.

It doesn't even leave when he meets Chan and Changbin and Jisung in the corridor. As they make conversation with him, and he  _sees_ that they're still alive, that he still has another chance. But the crash haunts his bones, shudders within him every time he so much as moves. Crimson stains the edge of his vision.

He repeats what he said yesterday, despite the burning sensation in his heart. Despite the knowledge that it was those words that killed them, that their lives snapped like an elastic band that he'd stretched too far.

But as far as he knows, he was right up until then. The absence of sickness only proved that, and it was the same again as he sits through the second class of the day for the third time.

The bell eventually rings, and Seungmin smiles at Felix uncertainly as they leave the class. The other boy frowns at him, but Seungmin's already tripping over his rushed apologies, stumbling over excuses of promising Changbin something, even though he doesn't think Felix even knows who Changbin is.

Not that it matters.

He's sprinting back down the corridor before Felix has a chance to process the information anyway, waving through the huge crowds of people until he's standing in the courtyard in front of the school that's becoming all too familiar.

"Minnie! You made it!" Chan goes to ruffle Seungmin's hair, swinging his arm over his shoulder. Seungmin dodges. His feet take him out of the way before he even has a chance to evaluate the consequences. There's a sickness in the pit of his stomach that reminds him of the blood staining the car, of glassy eyes and twisted metal. Cold skin so close to his.

This time, the nausea that seems to be permanently lingering around him isn't from time travel, but instead the thought of being touched.

"Minnie?" Chan asks, obviously not expecting his movement.

Seungmin simply shakes his head, hoping that the older boy gets the message. He never gets to find out, because strangely out of order, Jisung bounds up with a huge smile. "Min!"

"Where's Jeongin?" Says Seungmin, completely disregarding the fact that Jisung had just spoken, "I thought he was coming?"

Changbin rubs his temples, melting seamlessly into the conversation at the very mention of his younger sibling. "He is," he says, and his voice sounds sour, "He said he'd be here in a few minutes. He's late, as usual _._ "

Chan frowns, "Changbin, he's your _brother._  Why don't you want him to go that much? Sure, he can be a bit loud, but it's not unbearable or anything."

"Oh, you think it's not  _unbearable._  Trust me, I even know a different route we can take, if Jeongin doesn't come. There's a shortcut past some more... 'raunchy' shops. That way we'd be able to spend more time at the lake."

Seungmin's heart drops. He can't let them go, can't let them die all over again. "No!"

They all turn to face him, obviously surprised at his sudden outburst. "We can't leave him!" Seungmin says, and maybe the fates do want to co-operate, because there's a figure in the distance heading towards them.

A young boy, loud even as he approaches in silence.

Nine- of  _course_ Jeongin was Nine- greets them with a smile, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

"Or not." Says Changbin under his breath, and they all head towards the car, Seungmin practically dragging Jeongin behind him. The fabric of the other boy's jacket feels like a grater against his skin, tearing it like thousands of tiny hooks, but he doesn't let go.

Not until Jeongin sits down.

Until Seungmin is sure that he can't be left behind.

Finally, Seungmin climbs into the car, clambering back over the chairs in the middle row until he's safely seated in the very back of the car. Again, there's a spade that digs into his side, and his elbow brushes against a unicorn-shaped bucket every time he moves.

And there's a strange feeling that surrounds him.

The walls of the car seem to press inwards, the seat pulling him into it and not letting him move. Every time he blinks, the roof seems to crumple, the door is ripped away, the car is stained in a bright coppery red. He can't tear her eyes away from the boys sitting in front of him, constantly making sure that they're there, that they're still alive.

The engine of the car starts, and he straps herself in, poking Jeongin in the shoulder when he notices that the younger boy hasn't. He's not taking any chances, not this time.

After only a few moments, they drive past the turning. Seungmin can just about make out the same gaudy explicit signs from before, but they're gone just as quickly as he can make out the words. A bright flash of colour from between the grey rows of shops. He can almost imagine the car turning though, the screech of tyres and and spinning steering wheel.

No.

They're fine.

They won't leave through that exit.

They won't get hit by the truck.

They're fine.

His heart is pounding embarrassingly quickly, and shows no sign of slowing down. He's pretty sure his cheeks are pink from worry at this point, and he has to physically work to slow his breathing.

They turn around a roundabout, and begin the journey down the same motorway as yesterday. It's only a few minutes down the road when Jisung notices a huge cloud of black smoke in front of them. It colours the air with darkness, and the car is filled with the acrid stench of smoke and fire. The speed of the cars around them decreases substantially, and soon they're crawling past what remained of a huge truck lying by the side of the road.

The same truck as last time.

Seungmin remembers this. The way the truck is tilted, the distant whine of ambulance sirens, flickering blue lights getting closer. There's a car- the car that had braked so suddenly in front of them- lying a few metres away. It's little more than scrap metal at this point, and Seungmin can't stop the bile rising in his throat when he notices how still the driver is.

And where the truck has fallen. The same stretch of gravel that he knows is exactly where their car was. He can see Jisung, lying a few feet away unmoving. The blood stain on the window, each one shattered like thousands of tiny crystals sprinkled across the road. The skid marks, barely visible against the tarmac, leading right up until the skeleton of what used to be a car.

"Woah," Jeongin breathes out, fogging up the glass from how close he's pressed up to it, in an attempt to get a better view. His eyes are slight with a strange kind of fascination that makes Seungmin feel slightly ill. It's so close to  _them_ being crushed that he can't help it.

Chan nudges him with his shoulder. "Don't say that," he says, "Look." Seungmin's eyes follow his finger, not quite seeing what he's pointing at until-

There's a body. It's not the first one he's seen, not by a long shot, but it's still a body. Most of it is hidden by the plumes of black smoke still coming out of the truck, but what is visible is enough to make Seungmin look away immediately. Charred skin almost indistinguishable from the burnt carcass of the metal frame, peeling off in huge flakes of sections to reveal skin that's too red.

He spends the rest of the journey with his head between his knees.

It's a weird feeling, and one that he can't quite put his finger on. He's used to bodies, used to people dying in increasingly horrific ways and yet he can't even bear to look at the charred remains of the man for more that a few seconds.

When he began to turn back time, he would have stared at it without batting an eyelid.

Something's happening to him. He doesn't want to see any more people die. He just wants them to be safe, wants them to live through the day.

He's tired of watching them die.

The slam of a door makes him finally look up. With blood swirling around his head, he attempts to climb back over the seats. They're here. They're at the lake.

And it's beautiful.

The lake is huge, an open body of dark blue water that's virtually abandoned. There's a huge tree on the far left side, dangling its leaves into water, and the sun catches water in a way that makes the whole thing sparkle. Every bank is surrounded by sand, though Seungmin isn't sure where it came from.

Beautiful.

He can understand why Chan and Jisung wanted to come here so much. Jisung is already shrieking with joy, pulling all the various beach items out of the back of the car and discarding them on the ground in favour of sprinting towards the lake.

Jeongin doesn't hesitate to join him, throwing off most of his clothes and diving in without a second warning. Chan rolls his eyes, hesitating next to Jeongin's abandoned t-shirt for a second, before deciding to pick it up, folding them over and bringing them back to the car.

"You not going to go in?" He says, gesturing to the lake. Changbin's joined the swimmers now, though his clothes are neatly folded and placed on a patch of grass nearby, in contrast to where the water is mere centimetres away from Jisung's socks.

Seungmin shakes his head. He can't help it. His stomach is still tied in knots from the thought of the crash, and he's never been the most confident swimmer. It's safer if he stays on the side, where he can keep an eye on them all.

Chan smiles, beginning to take his own clothes off. "That's fine, I'm not going to pressure you or anything," he pats Seungmin's hair, before starting to back away towards the lake, "Just know that you can join us at any time, yeah, Minnie?"

Seungmin nods, but his mind is already miles away. He stretches out his feet, digging them into the sand and not worrying about it getting into his shoes. In fact, he embraces the feeling by discarding his jacket, dropping it on the sand and letting the sun wash over his pale arms. He turns her face up to the sky.

The sun is warm. It beats down on his face, warming every inch of his exposed skin. The kind of heat that's almost uncomfortable, though he doesn't have to worry about being burnt. His shirt sticks to his skin, hair plastered to his face, his trousers rubbing his legs everything he shifts his weight.

There's a strange smell in the air, sweet in an unfamiliar way. The air hangs dense around him, humid and only getting heavier. It gets in his lungs until it's almost hard to breathe- he's so used to the filtered air of the Room, where every single atom was measured and calculated until it was perfect.

He only opens his eyes again when his jacket is pushed back up onto his leg. The zipper pulls at his trousers with its teeth, and the wind rips the fabric away before he can untangle it properly. His trousers rip, a sharp sound that almost echoes in his ears. And his jacket blows even further away.

It rolls down the slope towards the lake, and Seungmin realises that it isn't the only thing that's moving. The entire car seems to be shaking, and his hair is being whipped around his face with increasing violence. In fact, his clothes are practically being pulled off his body with the force of the wind. The huge tree shakes dangerously, leaves tumbling into the clear water despite being vibrant green.

Eventually, he manages to catch up with his jacket. He's standing at the very edge of the lake now, the sleeve of the fabric dangling loosely in the water. A gust of wind almost knocks him over as he bends down to pick it up, and as he clutched it to his chest, he realises that the bad feeling is back.

The once sunny sky is now completely grey, and the colour is only growing darker with every passing second. The light grey is melting into something angry, a shade away from black. The wind only picks up, howling with a furious vengeance. Seungmin stumbles forwards, unable to stop himself until he's almost leaning back into the air, several steps into the lake.

The cold water soaks through his shoes.

Distantly, he can hear someone yelling. The wind picks up again, and he's pushed forwards until he's standing in knee-depth water. Around him, what was once still is beginning to move violently. Each wave slaps against the back of his legs, spraying him with tiny drops that darken his trousers.

He can't step backwards.

There's a wave of panic as he realises that the wind is still pushing him forwards, and that the sand beneath hid feet is too soft. It falls away from beneath his shoes until he's up to her arms, and being still pushed even deeper. No matter how much he tries, he can't go back. His feet simply scrape against the soft floor uselessly, and the wind pushes his hair into his eyes until he can barely even see which way he's trying to swim in.

There's a crack of thunder, and the rain gets harder,  _he hadn't even realised it was raining,_ and the only sound in the lake is the screaming of the wind and relentless beating of the rain. And the screams.

Because as the wind picks up even more, as even their car is pulled towards the lake until its wheels are firmly embedded in the water, the waves get higher and higher.

It's impossible to swim against them, difficult for even the most experienced swimmer to stay afloat for more than a few seconds. The water is too cold for anyone to survive in it, not that they'd manage for long anyway, not being able to breathe without getting lungfuls of water.

And Seungmin realises that they're all stranded between the waves.

He doesn't know what to do. He's not strong enough to go after anyone- but he  _has_ to. He  _has_ to, he can't afford to let them die again, can't face starting over again. Not again, not when he thought he may have finally gotten it right. But he's pushed underwater before he even has the chance to attempt to move.

There's no sense of direction under the waves. It's dark, and he doesn't know where even the surface is. There's simply tumbling and tumbling as he's sent crashing through the water, spinning until the nausea in his chest isn't just time's vengeance. There's a tightness in his lungs that urges him to breathe, but there's nothing around him except water and sand, and when he does eventually breathe in, it does nothing to help the lack of oxygen.

Instead, he splutters and chokes, but there's nothing to splutter and choke against. There's nothing except water, and his head as it scrapes against the floor of the lake as he's thrown around.

In her panic, he realises that he's forgotten his one saving grace. The ribbon around his wrist, but he can't find it. He knows it's still there, he can still feel it pressed against his skin, but his hands refuse to come together. The water forces them apart, tugs them in every opposing direction possible until there's simply no energy left to fight against the blackness that seems to engulf him.

Then there's light amongst the black spots appearing in her vision. He swims towards it frantically. The surge of adrenaline in his veins is almost tangible, a feeling that leaves him slightly lightheaded, but with a renewed strength. He pushes against the current, finally managing to stop spinning. He pushes towards it, praying that it's the light, praying that he can finally,  _finally,_ breathe.

It's not.

It's not the light.

It's not oxygen.

It's Jeongin.

His skin is pale, almost milky and practically glowing against the black waves. Eyes wide and milky, pupils rolled up into the back of his skull until they were barely visible. Veins stark on his tiny wrists. Hair swirling around his face in a sickening imitation of what had seemed like a halo around Woojin. Lips pale, almost indistinguishable.

His chest isn't moving.

_Seungmin's wrists finally drift close enough together for him to feel the ribbon between his fingers. He grasps it like a life line, because in a way, he supposes it is._

_Summons up the last of his energy and gets ready to let the pale body in front of him drip into the puddles of discarded timelines._

_But he pauses, waits, and can't help the burst of familiar relief as he feels the presence of someone beside him that wasn't there before. In the swirling water, his hair brushes against Seungmin's cheek, his arm pressed against Seungmin's side._

_The closest they've been._

_The closest_ he's  _been._

_Using the last of his energy, Seungmin pulls._


	12. Four: Once More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mention of drowning, death in general, blood and a school shooting
> 
> if any of those things could make you feel uncomfortable, DO NOT make yourself read this chapter
> 
> I'll put an explanation of what happens in the end notes, so you do not ANY WAY need to read this for the rest of the plot to make sense

There's water in his mouth.

He almost breathes it in, involuntary, and immediately chokes. He's beneath the water and he can't breathe. His lungs ache, his head spins from the lack of oxygen, and bile mixed with the water choking up his throat. For a second, he thinks that the ribbon hasn't worked.

That this is where he dies.

But then he's spluttering around the water, letting it dribble down his chin as he chokes and heaves for air. Desperately, barely even notices the tears that stream down his cheeks. There are black spots in his vision, and his whole body feels light. The bed around him looks so comforting through his blurry vision, and it takes all the remaining energy he has not to simply lie down and forget about the world.

He can't just forget.

He has to remember, because he has to save them. He can't just let them die.

Not again.

Not  _again._

He eventually manages to pull himself out of bed. Struggles through the day, every inch of his body aching with a sickness that he can't describe.

Every step is painful. Every breath send bursts of agony through his chest.

But he can't stop.

Even as he struggles simply to move without wincing, his mind doesn't stop. It runs over countless possibilities and solutions. He can't stop thinking, despite the headache that tugs at the edges of his mind. Despite the fact that whenever someone as much as brushes against him, all he can see is Jeongin's pale hand wrapped around his wrist.

Empty eyes looking directly at him.

He can see what remains of Chan's head, Jisung lying still a few metres away from the car, the metal roof slowly crumpling inwards.

The ball connecting with Minho's skull with a dull thud.

Woojin tumbling towards the tiles, the crack as a halo begins to form around him.

A single blood stained flyer blown past the window.

Seungmin feels nothing as he pushes Changbin to the concrete in the courtyard in front of the school. He plasters concerns onto his face as he immediately darts forward to help him up, making sure to connect his shoe with the screen of Changbin's phone.

He has a plan.

And it has to work.

"Changbin!" Says Jisung, practically shoving Seungmin out of the way to help his friend of the ground. He pushes slightly too hard, or maybe Seungmin's just too weak, because he's immediately sent to the floor. He slides backwards slightly, already feeling the burn as the gravel tears through his trousers, and the glass from Changbin's phone sticks into his thigh.

Tiny shards of glass, so small that he doesn't even think twice when he puts his hands in them to pull himself up.

Blood drips down between his fingers, but he can't bring himself to care. Caring about himself isn't in the plan, and it won't save any of their lives. Instead, he forgets about the pain. Shoves it to the deepest part of his mind.

"I- I didn't mean to," He stammers, baking away from where Changbin is brushing tiny stones off his trousers, "And your phone- I- It's broken, Changbin, I-"

Chan places his hand on Seungmin's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. For a second, all Seungmin can see is Jeongin, the car, endless stairs, and then he bites his lip, suppressing those thoughts. He melts backwards into the older boy despite every inch of his skin screaming, despite every molecule in his body being lit on fire.

He has to appear scared, apologetic.

He has to save them.

"I tripped- I didn't mean to break your phone- I-, Changbin, I-"

Changbin smiles at him, though anyone could see that it's slightly forced. "It's okay," he says, amongst Seungmin's pitiful sobs and apologies. He nudges what remains of his phone with his foot, sighing when the battered metal object sparks miserably. "Seriously, Minnie, it's okay."

Seungmin lets his breath hitch once, before beginning to even it back out. Wipes away a few of his tears with the back of his hand. Sniffs miserably. He finally pulls away from Chan and stares down at his bloody hands, trying to keep the tears streaming silently down his face. "I didn't mean to," he repeats, sounding even more pathetic than last time, "Here, let me use my phone instead."

Because even if Changbin's is broken, they still need a phone for directions.

And if Seungmin can persuade them to use his, he can make sure they never reach the lake in the first place.

He looks up at just the right time to make eye contact with Changbin. The other boy glances down at where the remnants of his phone lie, before nodding once.

They pile into the car quickly, Jeongin banished to the very back seat without any debate. He complains the whole time, something about how there's a spade digging into his side, but is mostly ignored. Changbin very quickly tells him to shut up, and the car falls back into the familiar silence. The hum of the engine is just loud enough to block out any of Seungmin's thoughts, and he manages to focus all his concentration on the phone screen in front of him.

He switches the screen on, thanking whatever god is out there that it's fingerprint locked, and plugs in the destination.

Or so it looks like.

In actuality, he pulls up Google maps, making the screen tiny and planning out a route that shouldn't seem to suspicious, but should sent them in completely the wrong direction. His mind is already brimming with excuses about why they'd turn in certain places, until they finally get back to the school. His hopes lie on them getting too put off by the sudden change in weather to attempt to reach the lake for too long- and then he can go back to making sure the others are safe.

As long as he times it right, it will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

"Minnie?" Changbin asks, and Seungmin begins his plan. He directs the other boy, waving away any suspicions with the mention of a crash on the motorway.

"I heard it was really bad- I think the lorry is blocking several lanes," he says, as the roof is torn from above his head and a dark shadow falls over the car. He shakes away the thoughts quickly, sucking his breath in and trying to calm his heart.

Jeongin nods from the very back seat. "Yeah!" He says, leaning over obnoxiously and shoving his phone screen into Jisung's face, "Look! About ten people are already confined dead!"

Jisung pales, pushing the phone away, so Jeongin takes to bothering Chan instead. He informs the older boy of all the gory details, as if it wasn't almost them trapped in the carcass of the car.

It's not them.

It's not them.

They're fine, Seungmin just needs to calm down.

There's a flash of lightning that lights up the road in front of them- and Seungmin realises that he hadn't even noticed how dark it had gotten. Despite expecting it. The rain beats down on the roof of the car viciously, thundering down until it's the only thing he can hear.

The rest of the boys voices are completely drowned out.

The wind begins to pull at the car, whistling through spare gaps and causing a cold breeze to be created. One of the windscreen wipers is almost pulled off by the sheer force of it, and almost as if the wind was directly aiming for them, a branch is ripped off of a tree a few metres in front of them.

It hurtles towards them, too large to just bounce off the windscreen. Seungmin freezes, his hands useless by his sides, but before it makes impact, Changbin swerves. The car tilts to the left momentarily before the branch slams into the wing-mirror. It's practically ripped off , only held by a few wires and scraps of metal.

Changbin's face is pale.

"Let's head back," He says, and there's a muttering of agreement from the boys sitting behind her.

Seungmin can barely hear it.

His hand are frozen by his sides, body rigid against the seat. In his mind, he can see Changbin. Impaled by the tree branch again and again and again. Blood soaking his shirt from around the wound, mouth in a surprised 'o'. The screams as the very tip of the branch poked through the chain and into Chan's leg, as the car spiralled out of control.

It had been so close.

And yet Seungmin hadn't done anything.

He'd stayed frozen, watching as the world got smaller and smaller, as Changbin got further and further away.

"Minnie?"

There's a voice at his side, a hand placed on his shoulder. Seungmin jerks away before his mind has a chance to realise what's happening, and Chan frowns at the extreme reaction. "Minnie?" He repeats, "You okay?"

Seungmin nods, through his fingers are still buried in the seat. "Yeah," he says eventually, once his breathing's calmed down, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... waiting until we get back to school."

"Well, we're practically here," says Changbin, and it's true. The car is crawling along now, down what should be a busy road, through there's a strange absence of any other cars.

Aside from that, the school is almost just as they left it. The rain has started to clear up now, wind beginning to die down as suddenly as it had appeared. The loose wing-mirror is finally still, the incessant creaking noise fading into the background.

And yet there's still a bad feeling in Seungmin's stomach.

It's worse than any other he's had before, taking all of his energy not to just curl up into a ball and sob until it disappears. Every movement he makes burns, every single part of his body alight with an invisible flame. The fabric of his clothes grate against her skin, the grazes on his hands aching with an indescribable agony.

Something's happened.

Something has to have happened, otherwise why would he be feeling like this? There has to be some sort of reason, but he can barely even keep her eyes open, let alone work out what it is.

Almost as if he's in the distance, she hears Jisung say, "It's awfully quiet." The words echo and almost impossible to make out against what sounds like thousands of bees trapped in his skull, but he eventually pulls his head up from where it's staring at his lap and frowns.

It is.

He can't see anyone.

And maybe that shouldn't be strange, but the courtyard has  _never_ been empty. Even when they were leaving, it was full of people. And considering it was lunchtime now... it just didn't make sense.

There isn't a single person.

Suddenly, the absence of the creaking seems to fill the air with something much louder than any sound. They're all on high alert. The feeling that something is incredibly off isn't just confined to Seungmin. Even Jeongin uncharacteristically silent, though his breathing is loud and uneven.

Then Changbin slams on the breaks.

Seungmin tumbles towards for a second before the seatbelt catches him. It digs into his neck and makes him gag, but it momentarily distracts him from the pain in his chest. If it wasn't for the sound of the roof crumpling above him, for the flashes of crimson that stain the backs of his eyelids, he may have been able to say that he was completely fine.

"Jisung?" Changbin's voice is quiet and uncertain. Jisung is right next to him, and Seungmin almost wonders why he said his name, until he sees that both boys' faces are as pale as-

There's a body.

Not someone he recognises.

For a moment, relief floods his body. He lets out the breath he didn't realise that he'd been holding, realising his grip on the fabric of the seat beneath him.

It's the body of a girl, probably about a year older than him. Her shirt is stained with a dark red that makes Seungmin feel even more ill, and her hands are outstretched. Reaching for something, almost as if she was running in the direction that they were in before she was shot down by several bullets.

It clicks.

That something's wrong, that something's so desperately wrong that Seungmin can't quite believe he hadn't noticed it before, not when there's a girl that he's never seen before in place of one of the nine boys.

He puts it together before anyone else in the car even has a chance to realise what a bullet wound looks like in real life, and running towards the scene before anyone even realises he'd opened the door.

There are a few shouts behind him, but Seungmin doesn't turn back. He runs, as fast as he can, to the body of the girl, to where the building obscures the rest of the scene.

The scene that he knows is behind the wall.

He turns the corner.

Of course.

In front of him lie around a hundred bodies, though it's hard to tell when the doors to the school are still closed. He can just about make out a few fingers trapped between the automatic doors, pale.

The ground is soaked in red.

His foot hits a bullet, sending it flying across the silent field. There are more around him, shining in the sunlight. The light catches them at the right angle, and the whole field seems to sparkle amongst the endless blood-soaked grass. That isn't the only thing scattered amongst the bodies, though he doesn't want to think about it that much.

Tiny bits of grey gristle, parts of pink flesh that have been blown off from bodies that now lie metres away. He missteps, trying to avoid the crater of a girl's skull, and lands on something soft.

It practically sticks to his shoe, covering the leather with fleshy grey matter.

Something inside him twists, and suddenly  Seungmin's emptying his stomach into the grass.

There's a gun a few metres away from where he's doubled over, still clutched in the hand of someone who's face doesn't exist anymore. He doesn't need to see it to know what happened here, but it confirms whatever suspicions he had.

 

Minho is dead.

Woojin is dead.

Felix...

He can see Felix. Closer than the other boys, but Seungmin still can't force himself to take a step forwards. He doesn't want to see the other boy's body, doesn't want to admit that...

He failed.

That no matter how hard he tried, he failed. His chest still burns, every pin he's ever misplaced in the stream of time being pushed into his skin, deep between his muscles and driven into the bone. It stretches his cells to breaking point, pulling him in every direction, towards every direction he's split time.

And, he sobs, his cheeks burning with shame and agony alike, he doesn't think he can do it again.

The numbness in his chest stretches into terror and spluttered apologies, half worded sentences that sound more like pleas for forgiveness than anything else.

He can't.

He can't do it.

He's tried, and there's simply no more energy left in him try again.

He can't.

_But his fingers are already moving, without permission from his tired mind. Fumbling for the end of the ribbon with clumsy precision._

_He coughs, and there's a liquid on his lips that costs his tongue. He doesn't need to see the colour to know it's bright red, bubbling up from the back of his throat and choking in trips from the corner of her mouth._

_It hurts._

_It hurts, and yet when he find the loose thread he still goes to pull it without hesitation._

_The field, so full of bodies, stays empty._

_Seungmin remains alone._

_There is no dark hair, no pretty shirts and cold fingers, because Seungmin is alone and Seungmin has given up._

_He pulls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seungmin breaks changbin's phone and making sure they got lost, so they don't get to the lake. however, when they get back to school they find that everyone is dead. seungmin can't think of a way to save them, and sis so close to giving up, but restarts the day anyway
> 
> only a few more chapters to go now!


	13. Five: Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS ALMOST OVER LADS this fic has been such a journey i don't think im ready for it to be finished ahhh
> 
> tw: just a brief mention of how every death has happened so far in the fic

It's surprisingly easy to leave the house without Jisung and Felix noticing.

Seungmin repeats every step as normal until his hand is hovering over the apple and the backpack is in front of him. His fingers slide over the fruit, so close to picking it up and sinking his teeth into its flesh. But he doesn't. Instead, he turns, leaving his bag abandoned by the door and apple on the counter.

He doesn't need them.

The back of the house is just as abandoned as the front, and every room is just as identical. He doesn't pay attention to them despite his curiosity.

Furniture can only look so pretty.

Walls can only be so decorated.

There's only so many colours to cover up the grey of the world.

He jumps over the wall at the back of the house into an alleyway, kicking away a glass bottle as he lands. It shatters as it hits a stack of broken bricks opposite. The light catches the shards as he passes, sparking and glistening like fragments of tiny diamonds. Hundreds of tiny diamonds lying fractured.

He ignores them.

Jisung and Felix don't see him, though he knows that he might have passed them at some point. He wonders at what point they gave up on waiting for him as he climbs the ladder up to the roof. Whether they really were just about to leave when he arrived, like they always insisted.

Somehow he doesn't think so. He has the feeling that they'd wait, maybe even until the first bell had rung and they were just scraping Minho's body off of the pavement.

Maybe.

The ladder leaves orange on his hands, painting his palms the same colours as the leaves that are just beginning to darken, settling into every line and colouring the space just behind his nails. The metal is rough under his hands as well, and his trousers catch on a jagged pipe at some point, leaving a huge ladder down his shin. It scratches his skin as well, white lines down his thighs, tiny red dots just beginning to bead up. Eventually, the shoelaces on his left shoe come undone, but it doesn't matter.

He pulls herself up onto the roof and leaves it.

It dangles down when he swings his legs over the sides, the hard plastic hitting the wall as the wind blows it. There's a few unidentified streaks, stains of mud from the dirty roof, and he can feel rainwater beginning to soak into his trousers.

And he sits.

He watches as the rest of the students arrive and does nothing. A car speeds along the pavement, wheels pinning out of control. He's slightly too far away to see the surprised look on Minho's face, or the horror of the people around him as he crumpled to the ground. The tyres leave dark marks across his pale skin, visible from even here, and the sheets of paper around him are stained a deep, unmistakable red.

He watches as the body is stretchered away, as Jisung and Felix arrive and bring with them innocent confusion. He doesn't need to be close to see Jisung's heartbreak, as the boy finally pieces together what the dark stain on the pale cobblestones is from.

And he waits.

Another bell rings, but he doesn't move. Most of the students still wandering around enter the building, none of them noticing Seungmin. They don't even look up, but it's not as if anything would happen if he did. It's only one day, anyway. It's not like he'll still be there tomorrow.

He's not inside, so he can't see what happens to Woojin, and in a strange way he's thankful for that. The bell rings for the second lesson though, and he can still imagine his hair flying out behind him. The look of surprise the same, every single time. Right up until his head cracked against the tiles.

He also sees Chan, Changbin and Jisung leave school. There's a second where he watches and something seems wrong, a moment that twists his stomach into a knot, and then Jeongin pushes through the doors and sprints to catch them up. He watches them climb into the car and drive away, almost hear the music blaring from the tinny speakers. Every song that will play, and which one will never get to finish.

He feels the rain that soaks his clothes, washing away everything except the guilt on his skin. The wind that pulls at his hair.

He watches as the screams spread across the school, joined by the crackle of gunfire.

And he can't help the tears that run down his cheeks, uncomfortably hot and burning his skin.

There's movement next to him. It feels silly, but he immediately goes to wipe the tears away, before he even sees who it is. And when he does, his breath catches in his throat. He knows that there's no use trying to hide them, that whatever facade he tries to put up will just be torn down.

"I knew you'd be here," says Five.

Seungmin straightens up. The other boy has always been so beautiful, so beautiful that it was almost hard to look at him without falling head over heels in love. "Five," he breathes. His heart stumbles, trips, missing beat after beat until he's certain that he's flatlining.

And it crumbles as Five winces. "I prefer Hyunjin," he says. And then he must have seen how Seungmin's face falls, because he almost stumbles over himself to say, "But it's okay. I didn't expect you to know."

"Okay," says Seungmin, because it's all he can think of. As soon as the word leaves his lips, they fall into a silence that's so different to the comfortable relationship they'd had before. Something's different, in both Seungmin and Fiv- Hyunjin.

Something's changed.

Seungmin isn't the same boy that he was when he left the room.

The same boy that he was the last time Hyunjin saw him, back when they were nothing more than Five and Eight, two numbers at the end of a long list of disappearances.

Before the months alone in an empty room, before the white walls had finally pressed in too far, before he'd seen every single person that he held dear to him killed.

Seungmin didn't need to ask to know that Hyunjin had changed to second he decided to leave Eight behind.

Eventually, he looks up. His eyes are huge, piercing right through to Seungmin's soul like he'd never left, and his voice is quiet when he speaks. "Why are you here?"

"You left me," says Seungmin, though it sounds weak, even to him. His voice wavers, all of the confidence he'd ever possessed seeping out. Hyunjin makes him fragile. Breakable, nothing more than insignificant. He can't speak in front of the other boy, barely even able to make a single coherent thought when their eyes make contact.

Hyunjin frowns, but it doesn't look like he's surprised. Instead, like he expected this.

If HSeungmin was expecting him to show any remorse, he was wrong.

"Why are  _you_ here?" He counters, when the other boy doesn't reply. He doesn't even make eye contact, instead staring at the ground below them. There isn't a hint of compassion in his eyes, nothing except the slightest tinge of resentment.

Seungmin feels like crying.

Hyunjin looks up, suddenly. "Do you know what the Room was for, Seungmin? Do you?" Seungmin freezes, wondering where this is going, but Hyunjin continues regardless. "Do you know that they did? What they were training us for?"

There's silence.

He does know, he always knew and although he had though it strange at times, he doesn't understand what Hyunjin's trying to imply.

They all knew, didn't they?

"I did."

"And so you knew they were monsters." Hyunjin doesn't wait in delivering his words. He looks at Seungmin as he spits them, as his beautiful eyes turn angry, "You knew, and you just didn't care."

"Hyunjin-" Seungmin tries to say, anything to defend himself even if he doesn't know what he's defending himself against. It's the truth, he did know, but it honestly sounds like Hyunjin is trying to tell him that he's wrong. That he's done something, and that he should be ashamed for it.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, I truly am, but don't you understand? I don't know what exactly they are, but they're not the saviours you make them out to be." His eyes turn soft between the harsh words, a moment of regret maybe. "Seungmin, you were the only one who couldn't see the truth. You-" he winces, "Seungmin, you seemed to agree with them."

Seungmin can't reply.

He did agree with them.

But he thought that they all did, that they all understood that the Room was only doing what was necessary.

Except...

Except now Hyunjin is telling him something completely different.

"Why are you here, Seungmin?"

"You know why I'm here." There's no point trying to explain himself when Hyunjin already knows. No point attempting to stutter or lie, not when he could see right through whatever Seungmin could throw at him in an instant.

He's here to save them.

He's here to stop them from dying.

To prevent the endless Thursday from looping again and again and again, to stop the suffering for once and for all.

He's here to bring them back to the Room where they can be safe. Like they used to be, protected from the world until the Room decides that they're ready. Where he never has to be alone again, and they'll never have to die.

"You can't save them."

Hyunjin isn't apologetic. His words aren't soft. They're nothing but blunt, nothing like the Hyunjin that Seungmin used to know.

"What?"

"You can't save them." He gestures to the bodies on the field, the bullets shimmering in the light like tiny diamonds hidden between the blades of grass, "You tried, and you can try again, but you can't save them."

Seungmin shakes his head. He hadn't realised it, but he's leaning away from hyunjin, hands grasping at the concrete beneath him desperately. "No- no, no, I can, I just need to try harder, I'll figure out a way, they don't need to die, they-"

Hyunjin's hands are on his shoulders. "You can't save them, Seungmin. As long as you're here, you can't save them."

Between his splutters, the frantic tears begin to build up in his eyes, the heaviness of his limbs dragging him down, that's all he can hear. "What?" He asks. He doesn't understand- he  _has_ to be able to save them. He has to, so they can all go back to how it was before.

But he's only just realising what Hyunjin meant.

That they chose to leave.

To leave the Room, to leave Seungmin behind.

That...

They don't want to be brought back.

Hyunjin smiles. He shifts closer to Seungmin, and the other boy doesn't have it in him to pull away, despite every touch feeling like hundreds of needles being pressed into his skin. Their foreheads rest against each other, burning against the cooling air around them. "You're the reason they're dying, Seungmin," he says, "You're here, and you remember. They can't live, not when you're still trying to change things. Don't you see?"

And Seungmin does see.

Through the haze in his mind, the sleep that's been tugging at his bones ever since he began to turn back time. Every aspect of the universe trying to pull him back, trying to keep him away, to keep them safe, and he'd ignored it. Fought back, and killed them.

There are too many thoughts in his mind. An underlying buzzing, a static that lingers at the edge of every breath.

He's not meant to be here.

"What about you?" He manages to ask, though every letter is painful. His chest is on fire, head screaming as time sinks its teeth into his flesh. It doesn't want him here.

He doesn't want to be here, not anymore.

Hyunjin brushes Seungminn's hair away from his face. One hand cups his cheek, the other squeezing his hand with all the force needed to keep him grounded. "I gave up so much to remember. But I needed to tell you, I couldn't let you suffer." He's crying now, hot tears that run down his face and drip down his nose until they're mixing with Seungmin's. He shakes his head, not enough to pull them apart, and sobs out, "I needed to see you again."

Seungmin can't reply. His mouth is too dry, and he doesn't think his voice would work anyway. Instead, he just cries, pulling himself closer to Hyunjin. "Why?" He asks, between gasps for air, in the few moments when his mind is clear enough to speak, "Why couldn't you just forget?"

"You know why." Is Hyunjin's only reply.

Seungmin does.

He doesn't need to speak it to know that it's still there.

What exists between them is stronger than words could ever be.

His mind is almost complete filled with fog now, a hazy mist that only numbs the pain that flares through ever cell in his body. His thoughts are barely coherent, little more than the word _Five_ repeated again and again and again and again.

But there's also a new found strength.

He pushes away from Hyunjin, his breath still warm on the shell of his ear, and reaches for the ribbon.

Hyunjin's fingers wrap around his. In a steady motion, he manages to fight back against the fire in his lungs, and tugs for the last time.

His head explodes with an agony he can't describe. Time roars, but he's deafened by the choked scream of Hyunjin beside his, as he's ripped away. As the world drops, taking Seungmin with it. He tumbles through time and space, past every rip he's forced into the delicate material, every change he's made binding itself with searing heat to his skin.

The air feels like knives, but he can't open his mouth to scream. Trapped in soundless again, every pain that he's ever felt multiplied until ever inch of his body is torn in a different direction. Beautiful vengeance, ripping him apart until there's nothing left.

The ribbon falls to the ground on an empty roof.


	14. Conclusion: The Ribbon

He wakes up and rolls out of bed. Stretches, and smiles back at the posters that decorate his walls. One of them is slightly more torn than it was last night, and he frowns, confused for a second before he remembers that he threw his microphone at it after not being able to hit a particular note. It had been right before he'd gone to bed, well past two AM.

No wonder he's so tired now.

He opens her wardrobe and pulls on a new set of clothes. Just like normal, except when he goes to pull on his shoes, he falls backwards. He only just manages to catch himself in time, and ends up pressed against his desk, heart beating wildly. A nail presses into his leg, so close to ripping his trousers and cutting into his skin, but it just missed him. He sighs in relief when he realises that he's fine, but it feels wrong. He can almost feel the blood tricking down his leg, even if his fingers pressed into his skin confirm that there's nothing there.

In the end, he just shrugs it off.

On the way to school, he walks with Felix and Jisung like every other day. When they tease him, he throws barely-disguised insults back at them. When they pass Minho, him and Felix giggle at Jisung's red face, making whispered plans to get the two of them to confess soon.

Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

There's too much to do today.

He's just about to enter the school when someone pulls him to the side. Grabs him by the straps of his backpack and drags him to the side of the entrance.

He opens his mouth to protest, but his words evaporate when he sees who it is.

The prettiest boy he's ever seen. Fluffy brown hair, cotton shirt, and the softest smile. Hands that immediately drop to his sides when he realises he's still clutching the straps of his bag, a delicate blush colouring his cheeks. Almost doll-like in his beauty, and completely mesmerising.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," The boy says, and his voice is surprisingly light and quiet. But it's okay, and despite his heart beating quickly, he shakes his head, words still escaping him. He hadn't been scared, not really. And even if he had been, he wouldn't want to tell the boy in front of him, wouldn't want him to feel bad. The boy grins in response, taking his hand.

"I'm Sam. Are you Minnie?"

"Yeah," says Minnie, "I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's over woah
> 
> i want to just say thanks to everyone who left a comment, left kudos, or even just spent their time reading this. It seriously blows my mind how many people ended up enjoying this, and every single time I saw a comment had been left made me so happy. 
> 
> I've already planned out another stray kids fic, so you can look forwards to seeing that soon! It's going to be multi-chaptered and centred around the loonaverse (can you tell that i'm in love with loona whoops) and each member should get their own plotline
> 
> THANK YOU I LOVE YOU BYE


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